Defect
by thayle
Summary: Draco defects from Voldemort's side and Harry and the Order must protect him! The two boys realise they have more in common than they ever thought and something magical grows between them. HxD SeaxDean slash w. some RonHermione. Canon through to book 6
1. The Secret Keeper

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or any past events referred to in this fanfic … they belong to J. K. Rowling. But the storyline that follows is mine … all mine … :evil cackle:

**Chapter One**

The Secret Keeper

Harry Potter stood outside Number Twelve Grimauld Place. The old house stood stoically in the street, lording over the houses either side of it, which was precisely the problem. It shouldn't have been there at all. Harry had been able to see the old house since Dumbledore had passed on its secret to him two years ago, but to those walking past the house it should not have been there at all.

The spells Dumbledore and the other Order members had placed on the house should have had those walking past look straight from Number Ten to Number Fourteen, without giving any notice to Number Twelve, as if it wasn't there. Dumbledore had been the secret keeper of the Order's headquarters though, and with his death their best-kept secret was now out in the open, waiting to be put under wraps again.

'We're sorry to put this on you, Harry,' said Lupin, Harry's old werewolf Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, 'but since it's your house after all, we needed your permission for the spell to work.'

'That's ok,' mumbled Harry.

'So, just say the word and we can get on with it,' said Lupin.

'Yeah. Ok,' Harry said.

'Sorry, Harry, but you need to make it more specific.'

'Oh, right. Umm … ok. I, Harry Potter, owner of twelve Grimauld Place give the Order of the Phoenix permission to use the house as its headquarters, and … um … allow McGonagall …'

'Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Harry,' Lupin interrupted.

'Oh … Headmistress Minerva McGonagall to act as secret keeper for the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters,' finished Harry.

'Excellent,' said Mrs. Weasley, Harry's best friend Ron's witch mother. 'Now we can get on with the spell and then we can all get inside out of the cold.'

Acting as Harry, Ron and Hermione's teacher still, Lupin began to explain how the Secret Keeper spell would work. 'Now, you all know that when we cast the charm over the house that only the Secret Keeper will be physically able to tell anyone where the Order's headquarters is, and the house will hide itself from anyone who doesn't hear its location from the Secret Keeper herself, who in this case will be our lovely headmistress here,' and he motioned to Professor McGonagall, 'and _that_ is a hefty bit of magic, agreed?' he asked the three. They all nodded their assent.

'The actual incantation and process for the Secret Keeper charm, however,' Lupin went on, 'is decidedly simpler than the effects it will have on Number Twelve.'

'Please, Remus, it's cold out here and the children will catch a chill,' interrupted Mrs Weasley.

'It's important for Harry to understand, Molly,' said Professor McGonagall. 'I'm sure Lupin's almost done.'

'Quite,' said Lupin. 'In fact, I'm sure that they will get the gist if we just get on with it.' Lupin pulled out his wand and Professor McGonagall knelt down on the pavement, her hands placed palms together and raised out before her. 'Now, Harry, since it's your house I think we should have you in the place of the Secret Giver, and I will perform the actual magic. Just cover Professor McGonagall's hands with yours … no, you don't kneel down … and now just think of entrusting the secret of Number Twelve to Minerva.'

Harry did as he was told, and Lupin stood between the two with his wand outstretched over the pair's hands.

'Harry Potter,' said Lupin, 'do you entrust to this woman the secret of Number Twelve, Grimauld Place, headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, that none may know it's whereabouts or see its face lest she instruct them?'

'Yes,' said Harry, a little oddly as he was still trying to emit thoughts of entrusting. When he said the word he felt Professor McGonagall's hands grow warm between his own.

'And do you, Minerva McGonagall,' Lupin went on, 'accept the charge of keeping this secret, disallowing those who would do the Order harm from knowing the location of Number Twelve Grimauld Place, and the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?'

'I do,' said McGonagall. As soon as she had said the words Harry felt the heat between their hands lessen and saw that the house was growing smaller and smaller until it had disappeared from sight, so that the street was as it had been the first night Harry had seen it, before Dumbledore had let him know the Order's location. Judging from the mixed look of bemusement and amusement on Ron's face he guessed that it was not only he who had seen the house shrink away to nothing.

'You can let go now, Harry,' said Lupin, and as he did Professor McGonagall stood up from her kneeling position on the pavement.

'Well,' she said, 'all gather round now,' and Lupin, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley, Ginny Weasley and Tonks all came in close to where McGonagall stood, forming a circle with her. 'The location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is Number Twelve, Grimauld Place,' she whispered to them, and Harry saw the old house growing and pushing its neighbours out of the way as it reclaimed its original position on the street with another pop.

'Everyone inside,' said Mrs Weasley, and she ushered the children into the big house.

'We'll stay out here,' said Tonks, grabbing Lupin around the waist as he made to move inside with the others, 'so we can tell Arthur where the house is when he gets home from work.'

'Well, Tonks,' said Lupin with the sound of someone wary of contradicting his girlfriend, 'that's not really going to work, since Minerva is the Secret Keeper and the only one who can reveal the location of …'

'Well then,' pushed in Tonks, 'we'll wait out here and come and get McGonagall when anyone who needs to know comes along,' she said with a sly little wink and a squeeze of his hips in her arms. Mrs Weasley hurried the children inside all the faster.

- - - - - - -

'How have you been?' asked Hermione as soon as she, Ron, Harry and Ginny were deposited inside the boys' room by Mrs Weasley.

'As good as to be expected,' replied Harry, who was even now still trying to process the events of the weeks before.

'What happened to you after the funeral, mate?' asked Ron. 'We waited for you at the Hogwart's Express, but you never showed.'

'Yeah, we were worried about you,' put in Ginny, Ron's little sister and Harry's ex-girlfriend.

'Hagrid said you'd been taken by some of the Order,' said Hermione.

'Yeah,' answered Harry. 'Tonks, Mad-Eye, Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt all took me to the Dursley's. We went by broom with my invisibility cloak again. Except it was security times ten! Tonks said it took three times as long to get to the Dursley's as it should have because Mad-Eye kept making us double back and go off in odd directions.'

'Why did you go back there in the first place but, Harry?' asked Ginny.

'Dumbledore had done something to the house … or to me … I don't know,' Harry said, his voice getting chokey. It still did that sometimes when he spoke about Dumbledore. 'He told me that so long as I kept going back to the Dursley's that I'd have an ancient magic protecting me 'till I came of age, so we thought I should get the most out of that that I could. But now I'm here.'

'Well we're glad you are, Harry dear,' said Mrs Weasley, who had just re-entered the room. 'I'm sorry about moving you all about like this but you're all wanted downstairs again,' and she motioned for them to follow her back out the door and down to the kitchen.

When they got there they found McGonagall sitting at the table with Mad-Eye Moody and Arthur Weasley, Lupin and a disgruntled looking Tonks. McGonagall motioned for them to take a seat and the four sat down. Harry noted that the ranks of the Order were looking pretty thin these days.

'As you all know,' McGonagall began, 'the Order and the magical population in general – and even the muggle world – are in the worst states any of these has been in for centuries. The number of the Order of the Phoenix has depleted steadily since Voldemort's return and, a bit optimistically perhaps, we had not been focusing as much on recruiting new members as we did last time.

'Most importantly, however, now with Dumbledore gone,' and at this Harry noticed that his new headmistress seemed to be suffering from the same problem he had found himself suffering from, 'we are all – the entire wizarding world – in the most danger we have ever been in.

'Dumbledore always felt that the strongest weapon any of us had at his or her disposal was love … but he felt that a close second was information. We need to remain strong and stand as a united force against Voldemort, and none of us can see how we can do that if those around us are not joined with us.' She took a moment to compose herself, seeming to still be wrestling with a decision that didn't quite sit right with her, but seemed the only option.

'What Professor McGonagall is saying,' said Lupin, 'is that most of us think that it's time for you four to join the ranks of the Order.'

The young wizards and witches looked shocked, and Harry distinctly heard a whimper come from behind him where Mrs Weasley was standing.

'No!' she said. 'They're too young! And look a-at what happened to Dumble…Dumbledore!' she cried. 'Even he coul…couldn't protect himself.'

'Molly!' said Lupin. 'Molly! Get a hold on yourself. Not in front of the children.'

'But that's just it!' she shouted. 'They're still children.'

'No!' said McGonagall in the sternest voice Harry had ever heard her use. Even Mrs Weasley's whimpers quietened. 'They are not children any more. Even forgetting whether they are of age or not all four have been getting in and out of more trouble over the last six years than the entire Order since it's been reformed. It would surely be more dangerous now to not let them work with us than to try – try and fail, I might add – to keep them bundled in cotton wool and inevitably have them go off half informed, risking their lives.'

'I think she's right, Molly. I truly do,' interjected Mr Weasley before his wife could respond. It was one of the first times that Harry had heard Mr Weasley disagree with and stand up to his wife. Judging by the settling effect it had on her Harry was sure that the honest, concerned tone Mr Weasley had taken with her had worked much better than Lupin's shouting or McGonagall's sternness could have.

Mrs Weasley burst into another fit of tears (something Ron had mentioned earlier was a common occurrence of late) and left the room weeping. 'I should …' said Mr Weasley, pointing to the door, and he left the room to comfort his wife.

'So … so what now?' asked a recovering Hermione.

'Now you join the Order.'

'Is it painful?' asked Ron, obviously expecting some kind of weird initiation.

'Why on Earth would it be painful, Weasley?' asked Professor McGonagall.

'I … I don't know.'

'Well no, it's not,' said Lupin, and he extracted a piece of aged parchment from a writing desk in the corner of the room. It had obviously been put close to hand recently because Harry had never noticed it in the small desk before.

'Any of you wanting to join the order will simply have to put their name down on this parchment,' said McGonagall. 'But be warned, you are entering into a magical contract when you make your mark. While perhaps not as vindictive as some other contracts,' and at this she shot Hermione a sharp look, and Harry could guess straight away the incident she was referring to, 'there are consequences to any magic you enter into fraudulently or dishonestly.'

Harry moved towards the parchment that Lupin had lain out on the table and looked at it. At the top of the parchment were the words _Order of the Phoenix_ in large, loopy letters, and underneath a simple list of names. He scanned down the list and when he came to his parents' names, one after the other, his stomach jumped just as it always did when he saw anything to do with them – even when he was expecting to see it.

Lupin sat a quill and pot of ink next to the parchment. Harry took the quill and signed his name under _Nymphadora Tonks_.

- - - - - - -

Dumbledore was dead. NO! Not just dead! Murdered! By his hands. Or at his hands. He didn't know. Couldn't decide. But it was his fault.

Draco sat in the dark on the edge of the bed, short bursts of thought running through his head. Bright and startling pictures flashed in front of his eyes of that awful evening when he had betrayed the old wizard … gotten the better of the best wizard there ever was. Did that make him the best now, to have beaten Dumbledore? If it did he didn't want the title. But it hadn't actually been him that had cast the curse. That had been Snape; he could have it. He could have the title, and the sleepless nights and the pit in his stomach and the stabbing, excruciating pangs of guilt … of regret.

Draco heard the front door open and close and voices in the hallway, but he paid little attention to the noises. His closed door muffled sounds that came from the rest of the house and his thoughts muffled his other senses. It had been an hour after sundown before he had even realised he had been sitting in the dark, and then the terrible feelings that weighed on him had stopped him from bothering to make the struggle to the light switch.

The blonde haired boy had never felt this lame, this powerless. He doubted whether any Malfoy had. Or perhaps each of them had at some point; trapped - just as he had felt - into following their father … following the Malfoy name into the twisted world where he now lived. But Draco no longer felt trapped … in fact he felt very little at all bar emptiness, and powerlessness to change what he had done.

A tiny chink of light had crept in under the door and it fell across the moth eaten carpet of the old, run down house he had been hiding in for the weeks since his escape from Hogwarts. There wasn't a single magical artefact anywhere that he could see – not that he had explored the rooms particularly carefully – so Draco guessed that the people the house had belonged to were Muggles. The owners were no-where to be seen however: probably killed the last time Voldemort had been in power. Those Draco was now living with were happy enough to use a muggle house to erase their tracks, but they would never stoop to living with muggles.

The house was a safe house now, used by those trying to avoid the ministry and another group – the Order of the Phoenix. Sounded like something Dumbledore would have come up with. He had heard it mentioned before. He didn't know where. He thought he might have used the title himself – may even have talked to Dumbledore about the group on that night – but he still couldn't bring himself to think hard on anything at all, particularly the events of Dumbledore's last night, lest a torrent of awful, terrible thoughts should spring through the door he opened into his mind.

The people he was living with walked around the house as though they didn't notice how run down it had become. They lived in a world of delusion and couldn't see what their efforts had gotten them. How little they had worked so hard for. How lost they were.

A tiny light had been sitting ever so still in Draco's mind though. Sitting patiently to be noticed. He guessed it must have always been there, but having once been one with those people outside he had never noticed it before; clouded in mists of delusion and false promises and greed and stupidity, the tiny chink of what he thought might be hope had been overlooked. But it was sitting patiently, waiting to be noticed, ready to be acted upon. Draco knew that if he followed the path he had started on – the path his parents had put him on – that he had no hope. And so he had found himself examining the little light days ago, had found himself unconsciously prodding it while his mind tried to block out the world, and the vestiges of a plan had been forming itself even before Draco had recognised it. A very simple plan, but a plan all the same.

Black had done it. Snape had fooled everyone into thinking he had done it. This _was_ a war, and Draco Malfoy would soon defect.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hey :D

Hope you enjoyed :) lots more to come, but pleeeeease review, so I know if there's something I should do to make the story better

A big Thank-You to Silver Black Rose, who's my beta. Hugs!

Thanks for reading and feel free to msg/e-mail me

Thayle N


	2. Draco's Reward

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters, settings and any past events referred to in this fanfic … but I own the story line, which is pretty cool 'cos I go fishing with it and you can hang clothes on it and lasso things and do all sorts of fun stuff with a story line! (P.s. … please don't judge the following fanfic on the lameness of that joke. TY muchly)

**Chapter Two**

Draco's Reward

Draco had finally made a move outside the room he had kept himself locked up in for the last weeks. Though he had been treated as a hero by the Death Eaters, and had been assured Voldemort's favour, his peculiar behaviour in shying away from the people around him had won him a few odd looks from his fellows. Since he had begun venturing out of the room Draco had walked into several abruptly ending conversations, all of which seemed to have centred around his inability to destroy Dumbledore himself, and Draco was beginning to wonder if he would have to act sooner than expected.

He was sitting in the living room one night, the television switched off, thinking over these new and suspicious circumstances, when he was hit with abrupt news.

'Ah, Draco,' said his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, 'I've been looking for you everywhere.'

'I've been right here,' he replied.

'Yes. Well, I've got some excellent news for you,' she said with an excited, almost crazed smile. 'The Dark Lord has rewarded you with a very special gift, Draco.'

'Oh? What's that?' the boy said, trying to sound excited but thinking he sounded more guarded than anything else.

'Our Master arranged for your father's escape from Azkaban! Lucius is on his way right now!'

Draco felt his stomach sink even lower. The waiting game was going to have to go on until he had a good opportunity to leave without raising suspicion, but he didn't know if he could handle it if he would have his father to deal with as well - his horrible, deceitful father.

'Was it just my father he released?' Draco asked, trying to sound conversational while he thought over the implications of his father's presence in his life again.

'Draco, what does it matter? I said your father's coming home! The Dark Lord has forgiven him his failings and brought Lucius back to the fold! Why aren't you more pleased?' asked Lestrange.

'Oh,' Draco started, 'I'm just trying to take it in. It's excellent that father is returning.'

'You do want him back, don't you Draco?' The way she pronounced these last three words made it clear to the seventeen-year-old that there was only one answer that his aunt would accept.

'Of course!' he spat. 'But it is not the place of a Malfoy to be jumping up and down and clapping his hands like an excited five year old child,' Draco said crossly, feeling that this most convenient cover for his lack of enthusiasm was unbearably ironic.

Lestrange let an expression of surprise and then annoyance slip over her face. 'Your father succeeded rather well with passing on his sense of arrogant pride to his son,' she said.

'And what isn't there to be proud of?' Draco demanded.

There was so much.

- - - - - - -

Early morning sunshine was beaming through the slit between the curtains, and Harry lay on his back watching delicate bits of dust floating through the air and through the sunshine. It was still early morning and only Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley were up and about, preparing breakfast. While Ron snored on in his own bed The Boy Who Lived found himself playing with the cacophony of emotions that he had been experiencing lately.

Everything had changed since Dumbledore's death. Harry felt as though the only thing standing between him and Voldemort was gone. When he had been at the Dursley's Harry had often caught himself checking the street outside his bedroom window at night, almost expecting to see a pack of dementours swoop down on him or Death Eaters hiding in the gardenia bushes. Harry doubted he would ever feel as safe and as content as the times he had spent at Hogwarts with Dumbledore as headmaster.

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were all part of the Order now, and as none of them had as yet been horribly maimed or murdered (though none had really had the chance to be) Mrs Weasley was growing less and less frantic every time someone mentioned the group. Harry hadn't seen McGonagall since the night he had performed the Secret Keeper spell with her and Lupin, and they had guessed that she had taken over many of Dumbledore's old roles.

The doorbell rang downstairs and Harry heard the haunting portraits in the hallway begin a tirade of screams, none louder than Sirius' dear old mum. Remarkably, Ron slept on.

Reports of werewolf and giant attacks were now pouring into the Ministry of Magic faster then they ever had, and reports of Death Eater attacks in the Daily Profit were doubling every week until the paper had grown so thick that it was twice its normal size; several of the more regular columns had been dropped for space and it wasn't uncommon to find a story backdated two or three days because the Profit hadn't had enough staff to cover the story when it happened. Ministry witches and wizards, reported Mr Weasley, were spread thinner then ever before, letting any number of smaller crimes go virtually unnoticed to try and contain the damage being done by Death Eaters.

Witches and Wizards everywhere were on their last nerves. Mr Weasley reported that almost every store in Diagon Alley had taken to stocking faulty protective charms and spells to repel the Dark Arts, and told Harry a story about an older witch who had kept a man and woman under the _Petrificus Totalus_ spell for two days until a ministry wizard could come out, only to discover that they hadn't been dark wizards looking to kidnap her, but her new muggle neighbours, come to introduce themselves.

The sound of somebody crashing up the stairs pulled Harry out of his reverie, and he sat up in his bed. As the cold air hit his warm body and his stomach hit the floor, Harry new that bad news was travelling up the stairs, knocking over the vase and stand on the landing and banging on his door.

'Come in,' he called.

Ginny pushed the boys' door open and ran inside. 'Harry, Ron,' she yelled. 'Get up and come downstairs. Tonks brought bad news.' And she ran back downstairs.

'Wotcher?' mumbled Ron, slowly sitting up.

'Ron, get up,' Harry yelled, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and running downstairs. Ron followed sleepily behind.

When Harry reached the kitchen he met a confused scene. Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the table, Ginny still puffed from her frustratingly fruitless run up and back down the stairs; Mrs Weasley was cooking a fry-up for the newly arrived Tonks, but forgetting to turn the stove on as she tossed in the sausages and eggs; Tonks was looking nervously at Harry as though he might explode any second.

'What?' Harry said, a little louder than he had meant to. 'Is someone hurt?'

'No, Harry, it's nothing like that,' said Tonks. Her once bubble-gum pink hair was jet-black today and she had on heavy mascara. As the war between Voldemort and the rest of the magical world worsened her looks had changed to more sombre tones. 'There's been another break-out from Azkaban, Harry, and … and …'

'… And Malfoy's got away,' Harry finished.

'Yes,' replied Tonks. 'I'm sorry Harry. They don't know how it happened. It was just Lucius. They don't even know if Voldemort was involved or if …'

'Of course he was involved,' Harry snapped.

'We can't be sure, Harry. Lucius may have just gotten away from the wizards on guard. The island isn't as secure since the dementours left it,' Tonks said.

'Yeah, 'cos it was real secure when they were there and let all those other wizards out,' he retorted.

Harry felt a rage rising up inside of him, but he fought hard to keep it inside. Dumbledore always seemed restrained and calm; he always looked like he could deal with anything. Harry didn't want to let his memory down by acting like a child in such tough times. _There would be plenty of time after he had destroyed Voldemort to be childish_, he promised himself.

'OK,' he said, trying to calm himself after this rather frustrating news. 'Well even if Voldemort didn't have anything to do with his escape Malfoy will certainly try to get back in touch with him. Do we have anyone in with the Death Eaters that can keep an ear out for him?' This thought brought images of Snape to Harry's mind, which in turn brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

'We don't know that he'll go back to Voldemort, though,' interjected Hermione. Harry gave her a questioning look, and when she felt that it was safe to continue and that he wasn't going to loose his temper she continued. 'Well, Voldemort obviously could have gotten him out of Azkaban long before this, so why didn't he? Obviously he either cut Lucius loose or Azkaban was his punishment for messing up at the Department of Mysteries.'

Harry took a moment to think this through. He knew that Hermione had a good point, but the image of Lucius Malfoy grovelling to his master in the graveyard when Voldemort returned to power made Harry convinced that he would go back to Voldemort no matter what.

'No,' he said. 'Lucius will go back to Voldemort. Maybe Voldemort is done punishing him, or he has some new use for him.' Harry could see in everyone's eyes that they didn't believe him, thought that he was clinging to naïve hopes and chances. When would they start to believe him? 'You guys didn't see him in the graveyard when Voldemort came back! He was desperate to please him … he needed it! Lucius _needs_ to be with Voldemort.' Some of the scepticism left the others' eyes.

'Well,' said Ginny, 'maybe Lucius did something in prison to please Voldemort … or he knows something Voldemort needs to know.'

'Or maybe,' said Hermione, 'someone on the outside has done something to please Voldemort and ...' she stopped in mid sentence, realising the implications of what she was saying.

Cold realisation ran through Harry and he shivered. 'Draco.'

- - - - - - -

'Draco,' said Lucius Malfoy, for the first time Draco could remember pride filling his eyes as he looked at his son. 'My son.' He held out a hand to Draco, making an offer of equal that he had never done before – it was an offer Draco had once dreamed would be made, but that now chilled him to the bones. In the same moment, however, Draco felt as though he were finally getting the recognition from his father that he had always so desperately hoped for. Even if it was for all the wrong reasons there was still something in Draco that swelled with pride.

'Father,' he said, 'I'm so pleased to see you,' and this time he found that he did not have to entirely pretend to be happy.

'You did excellently to allow your fellow Death Eaters into that school, Draco.'

The memory of that night and the reference to his _fellow Death Eaters_ made something in Draco shrivel up inside. His wand hand twitched oddly as he tried to suffocate the emerging memories, showing a sign of weakness that thankfully his father did not pick up on. It was a night of firsts.

'Thank-you, father,' Draco said. 'But they aren't my "fellow Death Eaters" yet.'

'What?' Lucius turned to the man standing behind him. 'What is the meaning of this, Goyle,' he spat. 'My son does what has never been possible before, letting our people inside the very walls of Dumbledore's sanctuary, kills our lord's greatest enemy and you have not even arranged for his full initiation?'

'Ah,' said a smooth voice from the corner, 'but you forget, Lucius, that it was _not_ Draco who killed Dumbledore.' Severus Snape stepped out of the shadows and Draco noticed his father take note of his rage and restrain his temper.

'Of course,' said Lucius. Draco had never seen him so self-possessed.

'And besides,' drawled Severus, 'would you have wanted to miss your own son's final initiation into our fold? Surely the Master thought of this when he did not call upon Draco straight away. However,' and he turned to Draco when he said this, 'I am sure that now your father has returned, it will not be long before the Dark Lord calls for you to judge you worthy or not to become a full blooded Death Eater.'

Snape turned, apparently having said what he had wanted, and made to move out of the room, but stopped again, turning instead to face Lucius. 'Oh, and Lucius,' and walking slowly to where Lucius stood, he slapped him hard against the cheek. Lucius just looked stunned. 'That is for _ever_ doubting my allegiance to the Dark Lord. And you can pass one of those on to your charming sister-in-law for me, as well.'

Both men stormed from the room and Draco was left to worry over what Snape had said. Soon he would be called by the Dark Lord to finalise his initiation, but he couldn't let that happen. He would have to escape before then, but he still had no idea how.

- - - - - - -

The call to council came sooner than Draco had expected. When his aunt told him that he was to soon have an audience with the Dark Lord she was too busy telling him how much of an honour this was to notice him pale.

'When does he want me?' he asked, barely audible.

'As soon as tonight,' said his aunt.

'What? Why that soon?' Draco asked.

'The Dark Lord does not need to be a patient man, and it is safest to make moves with little warning. But don't worry,' said his aunt, mistaking his anxiety for nerves, 'you will do fine.' It made Draco feel ill to think that the care and encouragement he had always wanted from his family had come only when they thought he was responsible for murder.

Draco had no time for these thoughts though and quickly pushed them aside. He made his excuses with Bellatrix and went back to the room he had been sleeping in. He walked around and around, but absolutely nothing came to him.

Draco still had his wand, but he could not possibly overpower those around him. His powers had grown with everyone else's at Hogwarts, but none of them would be able to very successfully take on a full-grown wizard with years of experience in torture and murder, let alone a whole guard of them. Since Draco was sure that he would not be making the trip to see the Dark Master tonight with only one other person he knew that a man-to-man fight was out of the question, since he'd be overpowered straight away.

He could try to slip out of the house, but with no money, no broom and no food, he doubted he would last very long. He could have tried drugging people's food, but apart from the fact that he had no drugs, it would seem much too strange for a Malfoy to be hanging around a kitchen while dinner was being prepared. Malfoys didn't cook or concern themselves with housework.

The boy spent the greater part of the afternoon trying to figure some kind of escape plan, each plot becoming more daring and more reckless until finally he collapsed in exhaustion onto the bed in the corner of the room. All he was left with was the hope that at some point between leaving the safe house and reaching Voldemort – he shivered as he thought the name – that an opportunity would present himself. Then a strange thought occurred to him.

Surely they would not be using the floo network to meet the Dark Lord. Apparition could be traced by Aurors, and no one was particularly keen to draw their attention to the location of the Death Eater's safe house. So how were they going to get to the meeting? When they had brought Draco to the house he had been in too much shock from the night's adventures to notice anything around him, but he guessed they would leave the same way they came, but he had no idea how that was.

A knock on his door drew Draco's attention from his thoughts to the time and how dark it was getting outside. 'Come in,' he called. Snape stepped inside the door and closed it behind him.

'Are you getting ready for this evening,' he said.

'How can I get ready? I don't know where we're going or how we're getting there and no-body's told me what I have to say or do.'

'You can get ready by preparing yourself mentally to meet the Dark Lord. It is the single greatest, and simultaneously, the most overbearing experience you will ever face. To fully join the Death Eaters is to connect your soul to the Dark Lord's, to cement your future with the people out there,' and he pointed towards the door, 'and to make a commitment that if broken will lead to almost certain death.'

'Yeah, well …' Draco really had nothing to say to that. He knew all of that, but he could hardly say, '_well yes, that's why I'm so desperately trying to get out of it_.'

'What you are going to do tonight will not be taken lightly by anyone on either side of this war, and certainly not by the Dark Lord himself. You will be the youngest person ever to become a full-fledged Death Eater. Having the mark placed on your arm by those around you as the first steps of initiation was one thing, but to come to Our Master and pledge your allegiance to him face-to-face is an act that should _not_ be taken lightly. He _will_ know if you are lying to him, or if you are not certain about your commitment to him, and you _will_ pay the consequences if he judges you unworthy.'

'I know,' said Draco, feeling the blood rush from his head again.

'And Draco,' said Snape as he turned to walk from the room, 'I would suggest you decide on what your answer will be when the Dark Lord asks that inevitable question.'

'And what's that,' Draco said to Snape's retreating back.

Snape paused at the door, still not facing Draco. 'Why you failed to kill Dumbledore yourself.'

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hellooooooo :D

I hope you liked the second chapter of my story … I'm trying to take it slow and cover all my bases, but Draco and the rest of the HP fan club will be meeting soon, and when that happens it's going to get rather interesting ;)

I want to say a big THANK-YOU to my Beta, Silver Black Rose, for sharing her thoughts on my fanfic.

And of course, the call of every writer on this website … PLEASE REVIEW, I'd love to hear what you think of my story, positive OR negative (or both :D)

Thayle N


	3. Kingsley's News

Disclaimer: Characters and past events not mine: they belong to J.K. Rowling… rest of the story is mine though, so enjoy :D

**Chapter Three**

Kingsley's News

Draco pulled his cloak further around his chest to try to protect himself against the cold wind blowing hard against his body. He had been walking for twenty minutes in the cold, dark night, and his present company was not the chatty kind. Snape and Goyle were leading the small group, Snape's cloak batting around wildly behind him in the wind, providing virtually no protection anyway. Behind Draco were his father and aunt. No one made any attempt to converse with each other as they made their way through the night.

Any rational plan of escape had eluded Draco and he had now resigned himself to having to take the Dark Master's oath and then escaping later somehow. Though he knew that escape would be made harder by the hold that the Dark Lord had over his minions, Draco couldn't see any way to avoid what was about to happen.

After another five minutes of walking the small company veered off the footpath of the quite suburban streets and made its way to the centre of a relatively large park. A set of swings stood rusting not far from where Draco stood and he noticed that only one of the seats was still attached to the frame, swinging madly in the wind. A seesaw just beyond the swing set creakily banged itself up and down in the wind. The scene sent a chill down Draco's spine.

'Where is he?' demanded Snape to no one in particular.

'Who are we waiting for, Severus?' asked Goyle.

'Pettigrew,' spat Snape.

'Well don't expect that little rat to turn up on time,' said Bellatrix sneeringly.

'Oh? And why's that?' asked a squeaky voice from behind the group. Draco jumped to see a squat little man with a sharp nose and squinty eyes watching them.

'Because he's a useless little vermin who choose to live with a bunch of muggle-lovers rather than remain faithful to the Dark Lord,' said Bellatrix scathingly.

The man ran at Lestrange, his covered over right arm held out in front of him, and made fierce contact with her chest, pushing her back up against the frame of the swing set.

'People should not speak that way of the Master's right-hand-man!' said Pettigrew to a shocked Bellatrix, wiggling the fingers of his right hand, his forearm still pinning down the woman.

'Right-hand-rat, more like it,' spat the recovering Lestrange.

'Enough!' shouted Snape, and he pulled the two apart with a wave of his wand.

'Where have you been?' demanded Goyle to Pettigrew.

'I've been here all along, but no one takes any notice of a rat in a field.'

'This is a park, you blubbering idiot,' said Snape, 'not a field. And you just decided to leave our Master's servants out in the open like this, did you, knowing full well the consequences if any of us were to be caught this close to the safe house? Do not doubt that the Dark Lord will be hearing of your stupidity.' Pettigrew stopped shooting Lestrange death stares at this remark, and took on a much more anxious disposition. 'Now how are we travelling to Draco's initiation?'

Pettigrew didn't say anything, but moved sulkily behind a tree. He was gone a few seconds, and then reappeared with five broomsticks. Draco was surprised to see them, having never thought that grown Death Eaters would resort to such medieval methods of moving about.

'There are only five?' asked Snape.

Pettigrew turned to Goyle, saying, 'The Dark Lord never intended for you to come, Goyle. He has still not forgiven you your lack of effort to help in his fight to gain the Potter boy's prophecy at the Department of Mysteries. He will not see you until he has a new mission he thinks you worthy to complete.' Pettigrew paused, thinking something over. 'And as the Dark Lord need not concern himself with the irrelevant, I doubt he will be calling upon you very soon,' Pettigrew added to the message.

Goyle looked from Lucius to Snape and back to Pettigrew and kicked a mound of dirt in rage, sending a spray of sand and soil into the fiercely blowing wind. The man wished Draco good luck and began the walk back to the house.

'How are we going to fly in this wind?' Draco asked, hoping to put anything between him and Voldemort.

'From what you and your father would have people believe,' said Pettigrew, 'you're a natural on a broomstick. You shouldn't have a problem in any kind of weather condition.'

'He's right, Draco,' Snape added. 'I've seen you fly. In fact, you should outfly all of us.'

Draco felt the blood rush from his head again. He was only a broom's ride away from his '_judgement'_, as Snape had called it, and hecouldn't possibly think of any other excuse to avoid it without making those around him suspicious.

Pettigrew held out a broom to Draco and he took it. For the first time in his life the thought of getting on a broomstick made Draco feel ill. He mounted the broom and, trying not to think about his impending doom, kicked off from the ground.

An amazing thing happened. As he shot into the air, even fighting against the fierce wind, the younger Malfoy felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He _was_ a natural on a broomstick, and the hope for a new life suddenly reignited in the boy.

- - - - - - -

The small group was struggling through the air, travelling towards an unknown destination. Pettigrew wouldn't tell anyone where the Dark Lord was or how long it would take to get there, so Draco, unsure of how much longer he had, kept his eyes open for every opportunity, promising himself he would take the first one given to him to escape.

The guard was flying high up in the air to avoid detection from muggles on the ground or anyone else who might be interested to know that a group of Death Eaters and a Death Eater in training – soon to be full Death Eater unless Draco could avoid it – were flying through the sky. It was freezing cold and the damp air stung Draco's face and eyes and clung to his clothes. There wasn't a single part of the teenager that didn't feel cold and wet. It was a miserable night to be flying, but fortunate for what Draco was planning.

Snape and Bellatrix were flying to either side of Draco, with Pettigrew in front of him and his father bringing up the rear. The strong wind, however, meant that nobody could stay in their designated position for long. Each of them at different times was being collected up by the wind and blown off course or else sent crashing into someone else. Draco's chance to escape came sooner than he had expected, and about fifteen minutes into the flight he had to make the final and irrevocable decision to throw away his life as he knew it.

Unbelievably, the wind had picked up a notch as they passed a stretch of barren land Draco thought might have been moors, and his father fell a long way behind and down a bit. With the new, stronger bought of wind Snape's and Bellatrix's full attention was taken up y trying to stay on their own brooms, so it was easy for Draco to fall back a little out of sight of the two escorts.

Out of the line of sight of everyone in the escort, Draco snatched his opportunity to escape and plunged his broom handle straight down. He had never known anyone to try as daring a move in such disastrous weather, but he knew that now he was committed it was either all out or death at the hands Voldemort. He would have shivered at the thought of Voldemort's name, but there was nothing left on him that wasn't already shivering from either cold or excitement.

The boy plummeted towards the earth, hoping desperately to become lost in the marshes and hills of the moors before anyone above him had noticed he was missing. Knowing that his escape depended on time and speed Draco didn't slow down as the ground came rushing up to meet him.

Draco pulled out of the dive just in time to have the tail of his broom scrape dangerously along the moors before he could pull up a little and shoot off across the landscape. Making sure to hug the hills and bogs as he went Draco directed his broom not forwards or back the way they had come but to the left of the direction the group had been following in an attempt to simply get lost in the dark of the night. Finding his way back to civilisation was the least of his troubles. All Draco was concerned with right now was escaping the Death Eaters flying overhead.

As Draco slowed his broom down – a Firebolt, just like Potter's – and turned around to make sure he wasn't being followed he saw something that sent shockwaves through him. Not too far in the distance was his father, streaking after the renegade would-be Death Eater. Luckily, the other three were no-where to be seen.

Draco pushed his Firebolt forward, but his reaction hadn't been quick enough, and Lucius had come close enough to Draco to send a barrage of stunning spells upon him. Draco was hit square in the back and thrown from his broom. He landed on soft grass but couldn't move from a mixture of pain and fright. His plan hadn't worked and now he had shown his hand. His father was going to kill him and no one would ever know that he was sorry for what he had done, that he had been going to try to make up for all of his wrongs.

Draco lay there, lifeless, listening to his father land some meters back. Listening as he walked through the long grass trying to find his traitorous son.

'_Lumous_,' he heard his father say, and light from the man's wand tip fell over Draco's body and moved up to his face. 'Draco, what … what …' This was the first time Draco had ever known his father to be lost for words.

Draco sat there in the cold, in the mud, having given in to the inevitable. He didn't bother to answer his father.

'Get up,' Lucius said crossly. Draco didn't move. 'GET UP!' he yelled.

Draco decided that if he were to die, it would not be in the mud, so he shifted his body, sore and frigid as it was, into a sitting position, and then a standing one.

'What are you doing?' demanded Lucius.

'I can't do it.' Lucius slapped him across the face, hard.

'You are a Malfoy. This night is the Malfoy family future. It is our destiny. You will not sully that name with your impudence and foolhardiness,' and he slapped him again.

Draco fell to the ground, his hands grabbing at the earth for strength, and inside him welled an emotion he had never felt before. Absolute rage rose in Draco Malfoy, a hatred the boy could practically taste, that filled him up until it seeped through every pore in his body, ran out of his mouth on his breathe and out of his wand hand on his magic, until with a little puff of smoke the grass he had been staring at just in front of his face caught fire. Draco jumped back from it, but Lucius only sneered.

'Very messy, boy,' he said. 'Now get up. You have an appointment with the Dark Lord himself, and you _will_ take his name tonight.'

'No,' said Draco. 'I won't.' Draco learned from an early age how to put up a front to block those around him from seeing what he was feeling. Though the boy's words sounded defiant he felt completely empty again inside, drained by the flood of strong emotion he had just expelled from his body in the form of magic.

'What do you mean "no"?' his father asked.

'I mean, n…' Draco received a kick to his stomach.

'Will you really not come tonight. You are a man now, Draco. You have helped the army of the dark to conquer its greatest enemy; you have taken actions a man does. So you can answer me like a man, and I will have no choice to deal out the consequences that I would to any other man.' Lucius paused, letting the threat sink in. 'Will you forget this stupidity and come with me, Draco?'

Draco's breathing was heavy, and he wasn't sure that his father would hear him when he whispered, 'No,' but when he saw the cold, hard look on his father's features – a look of venomous disgust and hatred – he knew that he had been heard. And he knew what was to come.

'Stand up, Draco.'

'No,' he said again. Lucius rushed forward and pulled Draco bodily to his feet, forcing him to stand. He pulled Draco's wand from his pocket and forced his son to take hold of it.

'A Malfoy never dies in the mud,' Lucius said. 'And let it never be said that Lucius Malfoy doesn't give his enemy the opportunity of a fair fight.' He raised his own wand and pointed it at his son, who still had not bothered to raise his hand.

The words that Lucius had just uttered bit into Draco and woke him from his stupor. His father had branded him his enemy. His own father did not have it in him to acknowledge his son now that he would not follow him blindly.

'Raise your wand,' snarled Lucius. Draco pulled his right hand up to point his wand at his father, more out of being used to following the man's orders than anything else. 'Cast you spell on three. Make it a good one, Draco – it's the last one you will make,' Severus said through clenched teeth.

'One,' his father said.

'Two,' whispered Draco.

'_Avada Kedav_ …'

'_Sectumsempra,'_ Draco cut across his father's spell.

Wide slashes cut across Lucius' torso and a slice ran across his face. Blood poured from his wounds and the man fell back in absolute shock, not having expected Draco to use such dark magic against him.

Lucius regained his composure quickly, though … much quicker than Draco had expected. Without bothering to heal his own wounds first, Lucius raised his wand and wordlessly shot a powerful green burst of light towards Draco. The light barely missed Draco, but it wasn't long before Lucius was raising his wand once again.

'_Stupefy_!' yelled Draco, and Lucius was hit in the chest with a burst of red light. He fell to the ground and lay motionless, knocked out from only one shot of the stunning spell in his weakened condition.

Draco ran as fast as he could towards his broom and collected it without looking back at his father. He mounted it and went to leave until he remembered that the man was still bleeding. He wanted to leave him lying there, in the dark, bleeding and slowly having the life run out of him, the man he now recognised as evil. He would be doing the world a disservice if he were to stop Lucius from dying right there. But something deep in Malfoy's conscience – deeper than the newly examined hate the boy felt for his father ran – told him that Dumbledore would never leave anyone to die that way, so he compromised, and flying over the limp figure of his father he shot a burst of green sparks up into the air to alert the others of where his father's body lay. If they didn't see them or get to him in time, then it must be fate, Draco decided.

The boy shot off into the distance, having no idea where he was going or what to do next. Draco Malfoy, for the first time in his life, had no orders to follow, no agenda to fulfil and no allegiance to anyone. The boy had no master but himself, and his only plan now was to let the wind at his tale blow him in whichever direction it wanted.

- - - - - - -

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place soon became a hotbed of activity. Nobody had heard any word on Lucius Malfoy since his escape, but as the weeks drove on the Order began to regroup itself after the shock of Dumbledore's death. More and more people began to come through the headquarters on Order business and it was beginning to feel like old times again to Harry, who had felt cut off from everybody for so long.

The Weasley twins, Fred and George, had both been through a week earlier to join the Order officially, and from their vantage point in their premises in Diagon Alley were now keeping their ears to the ground for any information passing through the popular shopping spot that might be useful to the Order's cause. Kingsley Shacklebolt had popped into the house several times since the premises had been put under the Fidelius Charm again. On his last trip the tall, dark man had left for Professor McGonagall a list of Aurors' names he thought would make good members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Though many people were kept extremely busy with duties both inside and outside of the Order (Tonks, for example, was working for both the Auror Office and for the Order, while Kingsley Shacklebolt was working as a highly placed Auror, a member of the Order _and_ protecting the muggle Prime Minister from inside his office) Lupin found that he was spending much more time around the house, only being able to work for the Order since his werewolf condition meant that most other people wouldn't hire him. This suited Harry and the others fine, as Lupin was usually good company, but it was easy to sense that Lupin wished he could do more to aid the group's mission.

One day, around two weeks from when Harry and his friends would normally have gone back to school, Lupin was given a new charge to take his mind off his troubles. Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour had gone to France shortly after a werewolf in human form had attacked Bill, leaving him with horrible injuries and some of the more undesirable werewolf characteristics. The couple's wedding had been postponed until after Bill had recovered from his injuries, and Fleur had insisted that the best place to do that was away from the bustle of London and in the French countryside.

Though Mrs Weasley had not been at all pleased with Fleur's plan, she had conceded to let her son heal away from home when Professor McGonagall had suggested that the vacation would also give Fleur a chance to collect bits of information and rally some support internationally. The pair had been called home when Bill had mostly recovered and it was decided that the Order needed to regroup against the growing number of Death Eaters in England.

The party that Mrs Weasley threw for Bill and Fleur's return was a small one (since it was during the day and most of the Order was at work), but still a very happy occasion. Tonks had the day off from her Auror duties so Lupin was in good spirits.

It was Tonks who first suggested that Lupin spend his spare time helping Bill deal with the problems of werewolfdom. Harry and Hermione were with Tonks and Lupin in the lounge room as the suggestion was made.

'I don't know,' Lupin said. 'I wouldn't want him to think I was sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong.'

'But he must be so confused with what he's going through, and you could help him clear that up,' said Tonks.

'I don't know that I could,' Lupin replied. 'I'm a werewolf, but we don't even know what the implications of Bill's attack are. He was attacked by a werewolf in human form, and there's no documented evidence of that ever happening before. I probably wouldn't be any more help than the rest of you.'

'I don't know,' added Hermione. She didn't want to interrupt a private conversation, but she thought that Tonks had had a great idea. 'You're well versed in dark creatures and the dark arts because of your old Defence Against the Dark Arts job, and you obviously know lots about being a werewolf.'

'Yeah,' said Lupin.

'Why don't you just ask him?' Harry suggested.

'But…'

'Hey, Bill,' Tonks called across the room, into the kitchen.

'Yeah?' Bill called back.

'Do you want Lupin here to give you a hand with the wolf stuff?'

Bill stayed silent for a second, presumably thinking. 'Sure,' he called, and Harry could hear him return to his conversation with his father, who had taken the day off work to see his son.

'Well, there you go,' said Tonks with a cheeky little grin. Before Lupin had time to respond the doorbell rang and the hallway erupted in a bout of calls of '_Filthy_ _mudbloods_,' and '_How dare you blood traitors live in my house?_' form the portrait in the hall. Mrs Weasley took care of the portraits while Lupin went to open the door.

Fred and George bounced into the living room with a burst of a newly created range of magical fireworks and a loud applause from Harry and his friends.

'How have you all been?' asked Fred.

'Yes. And how is our dear, old, wolfy brother?' asked George. 'All better, we hope.'

'I'm not too bad,' said Bill with a grin. 'You two are certainly taking care of yourself, though,' he said, nodding to their new dragon-hide suits and various magical oddities hanging from their pockets.

'Yup,' said George.

'Not doing too shabby,' Fred put in with a wide smile.

The festivities continued until Mr Weasley was called back to work. Apparently the ministry had just found a cache of ' protective necklaces' that when worn replaced the wearer's head with a giant fish's one. Ministry wizards from the office of Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects working under Mr Weasley had just been tipped off to the counterfeit protective devices through a fish-to-wizard translator.

As things quieted down Fred and George went to sit with Hermione and Ginny, who were watching Ron thoroughly smash Harry in a game of Wizard's Chess.

'So how does the new school year look to be shaping up without Dumbledore?' asked Fred.

'What's that?' said Ron, accidentally knocking over his own bishop as he spun around to make sure he hadn't just heard his older brother suggesting he be going back to school.

'I think his hearing is going, Fred,' said George. 'Old age, obviously.'

'Definitely,' said Fred. 'Do you think he could do with one of our new Turn Back the Clock age reduction potions?' asked Fred, producing a little bottle of something green from his pocket. 'Guaranteed to turn back the clock for a day and renew youth,' quoted Fred from the label of the bottle.

'Be warned, though,' George cut in. 'Allergic reaction could lead to your woo-woos falling off.'

'What on earth are woo-woos?' Harry asked, bemused by the twins' typical antics.

'Something that you wouldn't want to loose,' answered Fred, nodding towards Harry's woo-woos. Harry crossed his legs and Hermione and Ginny fell to the floor in fits of laughter.

'Well you can keep that then,' said Ron. 'Anyway, get back to the bit about the school year. Hermione and me and Harry aren't going back to Hogwarts this year.'

'No,' agreed Harry. 'We were going to go to Godric's Hollow and then get on with killing Voldemort.' Several people cringed at the name, but Harry just ignored it.

'Oh?' said George. 'I'd like to see you get that idea past Mum or McGonagall.'

'Well,' said Ron, 'McGonagall must already know, because we haven't received any book lists this year.'

'Ah, no, no, little bro,' said Fred. 'Booklists aren't being delivered until today.'

'In fact,' George said, and rushed to open the lounge room window for four large Tawney owls to swoop in. 'Speak of the devil,' smiled George.

'How'd you know that was today?' asked Ginny.

'Well it's our job to know, ain't it: ear to the ground, and all that jazz,' replied Fred.

'Well,' said Ron, 'it doesn't matter, anyway. We'll just have to have our names taken off the roles.'

'Oh no, you won't,' interrupted Mrs Weasley. 'The three of you will be going back to Hogwarts.'

Harry didn't know what to say to this. He had had no intention of going back to Hogwarts this year. But Mrs Weasley had always been nothing but kind to him; the older woman was the closest thing Harry had to a mother, and he couldn't imagine coming into direct conflict with her. He knew that Mrs Weasley had his best intentions at heart, but she couldn't have possibly understood what it felt like to be the one that was destined to kill or be killed by Voldemort.

'Mrs Weasley,' said Harry, 'I know that you're only worried about us, but there are things I need to do before I fight Voldemort again that can't be done at Hogwarts.'

'Well,' the woman said, rather pleased at something Harry thought, 'that's an issue that you'll have to take up with Professor McGonagall. She's the leader of the Order, and since you're all members now, you're bound to follow what she asks of you, and she wants you back at Hogwarts for your final year. She just sent me this letter,' she extracted a piece of new parchment from her pocket, 'and she has expressly asked that I make sure that you all make it back to Hogwarts, at least for the beginning of the year.'

Harry was surprised that McGonagall had had the forethought to cut off the groups plan even before they had told anyone about it. It was a very Dumbledore thing to do, Harry thought.

'But …' said Ron.

'There'll be no buts about it, Ronald. You wanted to join the Order, and now you're in you're bound by the rules, just like everyone else.' Mrs Weasley left the room, looking pleased at how the conversation had gone.

'But …' Ron said again.

'Oh, shut up, Ron,' said Ginny. Then she turned to Harry and Hermione and said, 'I can't believe you two were going to go off without me. I've met Voldemort, I've fought his stupid Death Eaters and I helped at the Ministry just like everyone else, and you three were just going to leave me to go back off to Hogwarts! I'm used to this one ignoring me,' and she nodded at Ron, who was still on the carpet looking flabbergasted, 'but I thought you two would have thought I might be useful if I came along.' She picked herself up off the ground and stormed upstairs to her room.

'I thought that joining the Order would have given us more freedom, not taken it away,' Harry said, staring daggers at the door that Mrs Weasley and McGonagall's letter had walked out of. 'And now Ginny's angry at us.'

'Oh Harry,' Hermione said. 'McGonagall knows she can't force us to go back to Hogwarts. Joining the Order didn't mean that you had to follow people's orders. But I think that if everyone else trusts McGonagall enough to follow what she says, than we should at least go back to Hogwarts long enough to see what she wants us there for.'

'Rough deal, Harry,' said George. 'But I think Hermione's right.'

'And if it makes any difference what an old teacher thinks,' said Lupin, who had just walked into the conversation with Tonks on his hip, 'I think McGonagall's right to ask you to go back.'

'But there are things I need to do before I fight Voldemort again,' said Harry.

'There certainly are,' said Lupin, 'and one of those things is to finish your magical education. No wait, Harry,' Lupin said as Harry went to interrupt again. 'How do you plan on facing the most powerful wizard alive today when you haven't even finished learning to do magic properly?'

'I can do enough,' said Harry, irritably.

'How can you say that when you couldn't even stop Snape from escaping last year?' asked Hermione. Harry knew that she hadn't said it to be spiteful, but the resurrection of the memory of Harry not being able to stop Dumbledore's murderer getting away bit hard into his soul. 'I'm sorry Harry, but Lupin's right.'

'Harry, take it from an Auror,' said Tonks. 'The stuff you'll have to face to get to Voldemort is going to be dark, terrible magic, and bar Auror training, the best place to prepare against Dark Magic is at Hogwarts. Final year is the most challenging, but it's going to be necessary if you want to face … him.'

'And besides that,' said Lupin, seeing that Harry still wasn't convinced, 'what do you think Dumbledore would want you to do?' Harry knew what Dumbledore would have wanted him to do. He certainly wouldn't have wanted Harry to risk his life, unprepared, to avenge his death. 'Just go back to Hogwarts to see what Professor McGonagall has to say, Harry. You may find that it's well worth your time.'

Lupin's insistence to think of what Dumbledore would have wanted him to do made Harry take a step back and think. Dumbledore was always cool-headed and always well prepared for the challenges he faced. He spent years collecting information on Tom Riddle's history so that when he faced Voldemort he would be prepared. Dumbledore would have wanted Harry to continue his study, and maybe there would be something at Hogwarts that the old headmaster had left behind to get Harry started on finding the other Horcruxes that Voldemort had stored bits of his soul in.

More than this, though, Harry realised that Dumbledore had sacrificed his own life so that Harry's would be saved. The Boy That Lived Again knew that he now had to remember the people that had stood in front of him to save his life – his father, his mother, Sirius and now Dumbledore – and it would be an affront to their memories if he didn't take every possible chance to better prepare himself for the fight he knew was coming.

'Ok,' said Harry. 'I'll go back, but if there's nothing useful there then I have to move on.'

'What's all this "I" stuff, mate?' asked Ron.

'We're in this together,' said Hermione.

Lupin said how pleased he was to hear Harry was willing to go back to Hogwarts for at least a little while, and he and Tonks left. Harry went to go back to his and Ron's chess game, knowing full well that he wouldn't have a chance of winning now that he had all of this to think about, but before he had even made his next move Hermione made an exasperated noise and pulled him and Ron upstairs.

'Listen,' she said when they had reached the boys' room. 'We know that you're the one who ultimately has to finish this, but we're going to be with you every step of the way. You know that, don't you Harry?'

'Yeah, I do,' said Harry, feeling comforted by the gesture.

'That's all you pulled us up here for?' asked Ron.

'Well, yes,' answered Hermione. Ron gave her an exaggerated look of irritation. 'Well, I didn't want to say anything about Harry's prophecy in front of the twins. Dumbledore wanted Harry to keep it a secret, remember?'

'Oh yeah,' said Ron, a little timidly.

'Oh, yeah,' Hermione echoed, rolling her eyes. 'Now, I think we should go and talk to Ginny.'

'Yeah, you're right,' said Harry, worried about how his old girlfriend must have felt. She had only been left out because Harry hadn't wanted to put her at risk. He had tried to keep Hermione and Ron out of danger as well, but they had insisted on helping. Harry figured now that Ginny knew he was planning on fighting Voldemort that it would be much the same story from her.

- - - - - - -

It didn't take much to convince Ginny that she had been left out of the other's plans only for her own good, and Harry was right in his thoughts that she would insist on being a part of those plans now that she knew what the others were working towards. A little selfishly, Harry was pleased that he could now confide in Ginny again. She had been such a good friend when they had been going out and it was comforting for Harry to have as many close people around him as he could muster. Harry was still plagued with worries of what Voldemort might do if he thought he and Ginny were too close, but Ginny was strong enough to make up her own mind, and Harry doubted whether he could change it, even if he wanted to.

After they had made up, the group went back down to the kitchen to look over their booklists for the upcoming school year. They were much the same, only there were two Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks to buy this year.

'Blimey,' said Ron. 'I'm surprised they found _anyone_ to fill in the DADA teaching job after what happened to the last one!'

'And the one before that,' added George.

'And the one before that' put in Fred.

'And the one before that was some kind of hideous wolf-man, wasn't he?' asked Tonks, laughing.

'I do believe he was,' said Lupin, acting scandalised. They all laughed.

'Do you two know who the new professor is?' Harry asked the twins.

'We do indeed,' said George.

'But we're not telling,' Fred answered. 'Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.' Fred winked at George and they both walked over to their mother, laughing menacingly.

'Reckon their bluffing?' Ron asked Harry and Hermione.

'Judging from the look on their faces, I think we'd better hope they are,' Hermione answered.

'Say, mother,' Fred said in an overly loud voice so the rest of the room could hear. 'Don't you think that Fleur should join the Order?' Fleur, who had been sitting in the corner with Bill, picking grapes off their stems, shot her head up at hearing her name. 'After all, she is married to a member, living in the headquarters of the Order and has already been on a little bit of a mission.'

'Yeah, and looking after Bill is a mission all to itself,' George added, laughing.

'Oh,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Well. Oh. Well, Minerva did say that we needed to bulk up our numbers, and … well … since you _are_ married to a member and living in headquarters, and were working in France for a little for the Order it only makes sense … well …' Mrs Weasley smiled at Fleur, who she was now making a real effort to be nice to, even though the girl had a way of being fussy and nosy and obnoxious sometimes. The red-heired woman waddled over to the writing desk in the corner of the kitchen.

She looked at Fleur and said pleasantly enough, 'Well, come on then.'

Fleur was shocked by the sudden invitation to join the Order, but obviously very pleased. For the first time Harry noticed her blush and by the time she had walked over to the parchment and signed her name under Ginny's she was beaming from ear to ear.

'I would just like to thank you all for your kindness,' she stated. 'I'm very proud to be joining your Order and I 'ope that I can 'elp you all in fighteeng against Voldimort and his silly Death Eaters. I'm honoured …'

'You really don't need to make a speech, dear,' interrupted Mrs Weasley.

'Oo, but I thought …' They never learned what Fleur thought, though, as the doorbell rang at that moment and the hallway erupted in the squeals of the possessed portraits. '_Merde_,' swore a surprised Fleur, still not quite used to the oddities of the Black family house.

Mrs Weasley went to answer the door this time while Tonks went to work on shutting up the portraits. The next time Harry saw the two women they were accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mrs Weasley looking flushed and Tonks was grinning from ear to ear.

'Kingsley has some news for you all,' Tonks told the room, still smiling broadly.

'We've found Draco Malfoy.'

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Ta Da :D Hope you enjoyed. I liked this chapter better, and I hope you did to ... so _please_ review if you did (or even if you didn't). Like I said, I liked this chapter ... much more fun to write ... but it also took mor work then my last two and you'll notice it's longer.

Neway, email me if you like or leave a comment,

Thayle N :D


	4. Judging Truth

Disclaimer: The characters and previous situations referred to belong to J. K. Rowling, but the rest of the story is mine … so don't nick it:p

**Chapter Four**

Judging Truth

Harry stood rooted to the spot by shock. He knew that eventually Malfoy would rear his ugly little head again, but he'd had no idea it would be this soon.

'Did you hear?' Kingsley asked the still room. 'We've found Draco Malfoy.'

Hearing it a second time took the edge off their shock so that they could at least reply. The Weasleys were all pleased, and started jumping around singing over and over again, 'We found Malfoy! We found Malfoy!' Harry and Hermione, however, shared a concerned look. Harry noticed that Lupin, Tonks and Mrs Weasley all shared a similar thought to he and Hermione: what could have driven Malfoy out of hiding so soon?

'Where is he?' asked Tonks.

'We've got him in custody at the ministry,' Shacklebolt said.

'Is he safe there?' Lupin asked. 'You-know-who has people everywhere, and if Draco can give information that he shouldn't give, I wouldn't put it past … you know … to do away with him.'

'Like that would be such a bad thing,' Ron said.

'Don't be stupid, Ronald,' Mrs Weasley said. 'This war will be won through little victories, and a captured Death Eater who is able to hand over information is a bigger victory then a dead one who can't do anything at all.'

'How did you find him?' asked Harry, happy to move the conversation on since he had been thinking along much the same lines as Ron.

'We were lucky,' said Shacklebolt. 'We got him at Gringot's, trying to take money out of his family vault.'

'He was trying to take money out of the Malfoy vault?' asked Tonks, suspicion in her eyes.

'Yes. The bank goblin serving him recognised him immediately and called the Auror's Office. At first we thought it was a hoax, but we always have to investigate calls from Gringot's, and when we got out there Malfoy was just standing there.'

'He was just standing there?' asked Hermione.

'Yes.'

'What's he said so far?' asked Lupin. 'Has he talked about his father or Snape yet?'

'Well that's the thing,' Shacklebolt said. 'He said he wouldn't talk to us.'

'Well that's to be expected, I guess,' said Lupin. 'It's a damn shame though, having him in custody and not being able to get information from him. I'm sure the ministry will crack him soon enough, though. What steps have you taken so far?'

'Well, this is the first one,' said Shacklebolt. Everyone in the small room gave him a quizzical look, and he continued. 'We won't need to _crack him_, Remus, because he isn't refusing to talk to everyone … he said he wouldn't talk to _us_. That's why I'm here.'

'I don't understand, Kingsley,' Mrs Weasley said. 'Who's here that the boy's willing to talk to?'

'Harry,' Shacklebolt answered.

Harry wasn't shocked or surprised; he didn't startle at his name being spoken or even really react. It was almost inevitable, and certainly poetically ironic. Harry had been dreaming of the chance to meet Draco Malfoy again, and so it seemed reasonable that Draco Malfoy would want to see Harry. Their motives, he assumed, would be quite different though. While Harry wanted to see Malfoy to destroy the boy who had helped kill his hero, he expected that Draco Malfoy was asking to see Harry so that he could gloat.

'When can we go?' asked Harry in a flat, emotionless voice.

'No,' said Mrs Weasley sternly.

'You mustn't,' said Hermione.

'Why would he want to speak to Harry?' asked Tonks.

'He won't say,' Kingsley replied. 'But the minister had been informed and is insisting on Harry's appearance.'

'Don't say that,' Harry said. 'You'll make me not want to go.' The boy turned from the group and ran to the stairs and up to his room.

'See what you've done,' said a very cross looking Mrs Weasley. 'You can't possibly think putting those two in a room together could be a good idea, Kingsley.'

'Well, to be honest, I really don't … but it's the only move we've got to make at the moment.'

'Come on, Ron,' said a harassed looking Hermione, pulling Ron's sleeve towards the staircase. 'We should see if Harry's … Omph!' Hermione was knocked to the ground by a speeding Harry, running back down the stairs, cloak in his left hand, and wand in his right.

He began moving towards the front door, turning when he realised no one was behind him and calling over his shoulder, 'Well, are we coming?'

- - - - - - -

The ministry halls where Draco was being kept were dark. Torches lit the hallways and the floor and walls were made of heavy stones. Harry moved down the pathway without hesitation though, and even though Shacklebolt and Tonks were leading, they had trouble keeping up with the teen. Harry was a man on a mission.

They finally entered a hallway that finished in a heavy wooden door. Harry made his way towards it without regard for the two ministry members with him – he knew this was where Draco was being kept, he didn't need them to lead him anymore.

Standing next to the door was a bulky looking Auror with his wand at the ready. Harry thought it odd that only one Auror would be left to guard Draco. 'Figgle,' Shacklebolt nodded.

'Shacklebolt, Tonks,' said the man, nodding respectively. 'And this must be the famous Harry Potter then.'

'Yes,' said Shacklebolt, giving Figgle a strange look. 'He's come to speak to Malfoy.'

'No doubt,' said Figgle.

'Harry, are you sure you want to do this?' Tonks asked.

'Yes, I am,' Harry said seriously, and opened the door before anyone could say anything else.

Harry's surprise at there only being one Auror guarding the boy was relieved as soon as he had opened the door. The room was surprisingly modern looking, with white walls and a single metal table placed in the centre of the room. The small room was crowded with Aurors though, and Harry couldn't even see Draco Malfoy through the crowd.

'Everybody out!' he shouted. Immediately the chatter that had been filling the room quelled, and all eyes were on Harry. 'Go!' he said again, pointing out the door. Everyone's eyes seemed to land on Shacklebolt, who must have nodded, as the room began to empty out. Soon Harry met eyes with Draco Malfoy over the silver table top, and a chill shot down the boy's spine.

'Draco,' Harry said with slits for eyes and teeth gnashing.

'Harry,' Draco acknowledged him. 'Close the door,' the blonde said.

Harry realised that he had left the door open and that all the wizards and witches that had just left the room were fighting to hear every word the boys shared. Harry closed the door.

'I promise this won't take long,' said Draco. 'I only want to say something to you, and then you can leave. I'm sorry I forced you into coming, but I knew that by telling the Ministry what I did they would make sure you came here.'

'I offered to come,' said Harry, wanting to make sure Draco knew he was there of his own accord.

'Oh,' said Draco. 'Well, I just wanted to say that I was sorry.'

Harry stared at the boy in disbelief. 'You're sorry? YOU'RE SORRY!' he yelled.

'Yes,' answered Draco simply, quietly.

Harry had no idea what to feel at these words. They were so pointless that they didn't seem to warrant any strong emotion, so Harry just ignored them.

'What are you doing here, Draco? It doesn't sound like you were _caught_. It sounded like you knew we were coming.'

'I did,' replied Draco.

'So what are you doing here?' Harry asked again.

'I'm … I'm turning myself in.'

'Sure, Malfoy, and I'm going to believe that,' Harry answered sarcastically.

'You don't have to believe me, Harry,' Draco replied. 'I just want you to believe that I'm sorry … that I wish I had never done any of that stuff last year.'

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' Harry asked intently, as if he was putting all of his strength into looking through the lie he knew must have been there.

'Still not very quick on the uptake, are you Harry? I'm turning myself in … I'm defecting … I'm joining the other side … I want to be a good guy … I want to be …'

'The truth, Malfoy,' Harry cut across him.

It took Draco a moment to answer him. 'That is the truth. Since the night Dumbledore died … I've never felt this awful, Harry,' the boy said, breaking eye contact with Harry for the first time since Potter had entered the room. Draco kept his eyes held firmly on the table as he waited for Harry to say something.

'I don't believe I wasted my time hating you, Draco. You're just pathetic … kind of sad, you know?' Harry stood up and moved towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at Draco, who was still sitting, chained to his chair, eyes downcast and staring at the table. 'If you're truly sorry,' Harry said, 'you'll tell the ministry wizards whatever they want to know.' He walked out of the room.

The hallway was back to being almost empty, with only Tonks, Shacklebolt, Figgle and a few other ministry wizards left standing in the passageway.

Tonks rushed over to Harry when she heard the door close behind him. 'How did it go?' she asked.

'He just wanted to apologise,' Harry answered.

'What? What do you mean?' asked Tonks. But before Harry could tell her what he meant their conversation was interrupted rather abruptly by the appearance of another wizard in the hall.

'Potter,' said the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, rushing towards the boy. 'I'm very pleased you chose to come.'

'It was a waste of time,' said Harry with dislike in his voice, remembering the events of the previous year.

'Now, you can't come all this way and decide not to get on with it because you think it will be a waste of time,' Said Scrimgeour.

'I didn't come all this way to not "get on with it,"' Harry said. 'I came all this way, I've already "gotten on with it" and now I'm saying that it was a waste of time.'

'What?' Scrimgeour asked Harry.

'Ask him,' Harry motioned lazily to Figgle, tired of being asked to explain what he meant. Harry turned to make his way back down the corridor to the exit.

'What did he say?' asked the Minister.

Harry turned back around to face him. 'He didn't say anything. But he'll speak to you now.'

'But …'

'And don't worry,' Harry said. 'You can take all the credit.' Harry walked out of the Ministry of Magic with more questions filling his head than when he had first arrived.

- - - - - - -

'He's been helping the Ministry so far! What's to say that he hasn't really defected? He's given us the names of several prominent Death Eaters and all his information has checked out so far,' said Kingsley heatedly.

'But there haven't been any serious benefits gained from any of his information and all of the Death Eaters he named have had covert wizards from the ministry on their tails for ages now,' Tonks replied. 'He hasn't really told us anything that can be of real use. There's nothing to say that he's really interested in defecting either. For all we know this could just be some part of an elaborate set up!'

The Order members were all sitting around the kitchen table at headquarters discussing Draco's apparent change of heart. He had been in Ministry custody for a week since Harry had visited him, and according to Kingsley had been cooperating completely since he had had his chat with Harry. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the outskirts of the group, listening to the conversation that would decide the Order's stance on whether they believed Draco Malfoy had really turned his back on his family and the Dark Arts in favour of fighting the good fight.

'Malfoy took a great risk in coming to the ministry at all,' McGonagall said. 'I don't think Voldemort would have wanted to have risked loosing an asset as powerful as Malfoy right now.'

'What great power does Malfoy have?' Moody interrupted.

'Considering his part in Albus' death, Malfoy has been seen as something of a miracle worker in the lower realms of the magical world lately. It is my belief that Voldemort was planning on using him as a beacon – a poster boy, if you will – to grab the attention of these wizards and witches and bulk up his numbers. If Malfoy is seen as being captured by the ministry, however, there wont be much chance of using the boy to instil confidence in anyone.'

'Have the ministry released the news that they captured Malfoy yet?' Mrs Weasley asked.

'Not yet,' replied Kingsley. 'They want to sit on his capture for a little while longer and see if it rattles any cages. If the news leaks then we may be able to trace it back to any dark agents working in the ministry.'

'It wasn't so much a capture, Kingsley,' said McGonagall. 'The boy surrendered himself.'

'Or so he'd like us to believe,' cut in Moody again.

'I went to speak with him the other day,' McGonagall said simply. The people at the table shared a look of surprise. 'Beyond any reason that I can muster, I am inclined to believe that he is telling the truth and that he did indeed surrender himself with the intention of aiding the Ministry. Possibly even working closely with the Order.'

An uproar of shocked defiance and a cacophony of different opinions would have been heard by passers-by, had the house not been magically soundproofed. As it was, the kitchen seemed unbearably loud to Harry, who was the only person not offering an opinion – a fact not missed by Lupin's keen eye. The meeting broke for a few moments for everyone to settle, but Lupin made his way around the table (which was being enlarged magically every time a new member of the Order came to one of these meetings) and sat next to Harry in Ron's recently vacated seat.

'What do you think, Harry?' he asked innocently. 'You seem awfully quiet for someone who should have such a significant opinion on the issue.'

'Everyone knows where I stand when it comes to Malfoy.'

'Actually, no Harry, we don't.' Harry gave Lupin a sharp look, but couldn't keep up the guise for long. There was no malice or ill intention in Lupin's question, and Harry wasn't bothered to seek any out.

'Well …' Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. Lupin continued instead.

'Well, since you've come back from seeing Malfoy at the Ministry I haven't seen you rage at anyone or go off on a tangent about how you're going to get your revenge on Malfoy once. You seem to have calmed down and to have lost a lot of your anger towards him. At first I assumed it was seeing him safely in custody that had calmed you, but it seems to run deeper than that.'

Harry had to sit there for a long moment before he could think of anything to reply with. The fact of the matter was that he himself had been questioning how he had been feeling about his enemy's capture – or surrender – and he really couldn't find the answer. He told Lupin this, and his old professor took the news without shock, but greatly improved his mood by just listening without passing judgement. McGonagall called for everyone to return to the table.

'As I was saying,' said the newly appointed headmistress of Hogwarts, 'I tend to lean on the side of believing that Malfoy has surrendered himself to aid our side of the war.'

'I agree.' The room fell silent and every head turned to face Harry.

'What was that?' asked Tonks after Harry showed he was not intending to talk on the matter more without probing.

'I said that I agree with Professor McGonagall. I think that Draco handed himself in. And I think that he did it for the right reasons.'

'But … why?' asked a shocked Mrs Weasley.

'Because he apologised.' The room broke into the same thunder of questions it had done minutes earlier.

'Everyone QUIET!' yelled Lupin, and the room fell silent again. 'Go on Harry,' he prompted.

'I know it sounds insane. It makes me feel insane. But I've known Draco Malfoy for years, and I've never seen him show a glimmer of sincerity … but in that room at the ministry … that's what he did. That's why he wanted to see me. He wanted to apologise for killing Dumbledore. And I really think he meant it.'

'Yes,' said McGonagall. 'I noticed a change in him to. After I had asked him my questions, he tried to apologise to me also. At the time I told him that it wasn't worth his words. But then when he looked at me…' McGonagall told them, breaking off to look pensively across the table. 'When he heard I wouldn't accept his apology he looked truly hurt. I've never seen a Malfoy show any emotion but rage,' (the word made Harry think back on the conversation he had just finished with Lupin about his own anger issues) 'but he looked truly sorry. I believe he truly regrets what he did.'

'Once a bad wizard …' said Moody.

'Yeah, Snape proved that one,' Tonks added.

'We all know what Severus did, Nymphadora. There is no need to cast his shadow on Malfoy's case however,' said McGonagall.

'Well there was the fact that they were working together. Maybe they planned all this together? Maybe Snape taught him some advanced form of Legilimency to hoodwink you and Harry …'

'If you think an eighteen year old boy could pull one over Minerva, Tonks, then you've got another think coming,' said Mrs Weasley angrily.

'Well I was just saying …' Tonks trailed off.

'Don't think that I haven't considered all of the possibilities myself,' McGonagall said to the group at large, 'but I truly feel that I have come to the right conclusion. Hearing what Harry had to say on the matter convinced me further.'

'So what are we to do?' asked Hermione.

'Nothing, at the moment. Malfoy is in Ministry custody, and that is where he shall stay. The Order's only part in this whole affair will be to maintain his status as in custody. We will have teams patrolling the area ready to move if an escape is attempted, and of course we'll keep our ear to the ground. But right now, if no one else has anything to add I need to be on my way. I have another meeting tonight.'

The meeting split up and McGonagall said her goodbyes and went on her way. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all said goodnight and went up to the boys' room to talk quickly before they went to bed.

'Have you gone bonkers, mate?' asked Ron as soon as the door was closed.

'I know. And I certainly hope not. Like I said down there … I know it sounds mental, but I'm even surer that he wants to be on our side now that I've said it out loud. And McGonagall thinks it too.'

'It isn't logical, Harry,' Hermione said gently.

'I know that. I do. But he shocked me, the way he was talking in that room. And we know he is truly scared of Voldemort. I haven't been able to get out of my head the image of him crying his lungs out to Moaning Myrtle in the bathrooms that time.'

'What time?' asked Ginny.

'Do you remember the night that I used that curse on him, the one that cut him up so badly?'

'No!' Ginny replied, shocked.

'Oh,' Harry said a little bashfully.

'Well I heard someone crying in the girls' toilets, and I found Malfoy in there in tears. Then he attacked me and so I accidentally put a big gash in him.' Hermione frowned her most disapproving frown as she remembered the circumstances surrounding how Harry had come to learn that spell.

'Anyway,' Ron said. 'Later we found out that he had been all upset over not being able to get Voldemort's goons into the castle … so I'm not going to loose any sleep over that,' Ron finished forcefully.

'Geez,' said Harry, more to himself than to anyone else in the room. 'I know. I can't see how I can be thinking this way!'

'Neither can I, mate,' said Ron.

'But it just all seems to fall into place. I'm always the one who sees this stuff and has to convince everyone that it's true, but I've started thinking that maybe it's because I'm meant to be the one who knows. It's me who was in that prophecy after all. Maybe all this is the universe's way of making sure that I trust Malfoy enough to …'

'Wait, wait, wait! We might be able to swallow that Malfoy wants to be on the good side for a change because his daddy didn't hug him enough and now he wants to get revenge, or something … but no one's said anything about actually trusting the little git!'

'I know,' said Harry. 'I know!' And he flopped on his bed, sick of thinking about Draco or Voldemort or anything at all.

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A.N: Hope you enjoyed, more coming soon I hope. Sorry about the LONG delay, but I've been really busy this semester with uni.

Please respond or email me :D Oh and thanks a lot to the ppl who have added me as a favourite or an alert! Make me feel special :p And a big big thanks to fifespice and Blond for reviewing!!!

Looking forward to any kind of feedback,

Thayle N :p


	5. A New Mission

A.N: Please please please PLEASE review! I love hearing any comments from you, and if you want to make any suggestions or ask me any questions you can always email me at Seriously! Pleeeease review … everyone else has so many and I want some too! You're making me cry! jokes

Disclaimer: all the characters and any events that occurred in the past but are referenced here belong to J K Rowling (in so far as she ripped them off from other people). Anyway … enjoy!

**Chapter Five**

A New Mission

'What do you think it's going to be like without Dumbledore there?' Hermione asked Harry and Ron.

'I don't know Hermione,' Harry said. 'But it won't be the same.'

Harry and his friends were just finishing packing their trunks for their return to Hogwarts the next day. They had taken Mrs Weasley's advice and packed before lunch, so that they wouldn't have to do it last minute again this year.

'It's not going to feel as safe without Dumbledore around.' Ginny said from the doorway. 'Everyone always said that Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the magical world … but wasn't that because of Dumbledore?'

'It was,' said Harry.

'But it wasn't only because of Dumbledore. I mean, he left Hogwarts all the time, and it was still safe when he wasn't there.'

'But now he's gone, Hermione,' said Ron, 'and there's no way it's going to be as safe.

'No I know that. But it's still safe enough for people to send their kids back to Hogwarts. And it's certainly going to be safer than anyone's home at the moment.'

'Have you guys heard who's going to be coming back?' Harry asked. None of them had heard anything at all.

'I haven't been getting any owls lately,' Hermione explained. 'People are too worried about their families and about the war to be sending letters to their school friends.'

'Well I guess we won't have to wait too long to find out who else is going back to Hogwarts.'

'Did you guys notice the time on the Hogwarts Express tickets?' asked Ron.

'No,' Harry and Ginny both said.

'It's four in the morning!'

'What?' asked Ginny.

'We asked Mr Weasley about it,' Hermione started, 'and he said the ministry wanted everything done when it was still dark. Something about extra care not to alarm the muggles while all these strange events are happening during the war.'

'Yeah, but moving about in the dark is ten times more dangerous when it comes to Dark Wizards.'

'Well he said that the ministry thought since it would be a big crowd of magical families everyone would be safe.'

The doorbell rang downstairs setting off Sirius' mother's portrait again. The four kids ran downstairs to see who the visitor was. When they reached the hall they saw a vexed looking Kingsley Shacklebolt walking towards the kitchen.

'We have a serious problem,' he said to Mrs Weasley and Lupin as he reached the table.

'What's that?' asked Lupin.

'The ministry has a leak. Someone high up.'

'How do you know?' asked Mrs Weasley hurriedly.

'Tonks was on a stake out at one of the bars down Nocturne Alley and overheard a table of wizards talking about Malfoy being held at the Ministry. They even knew what floor he was on. She sent word to McGonagall and me straight away.'

'How do you know it's a leak though?' asked Harry. 'I mean, I know that no-one but Ministry wizards were meant to know about Malfoy, but that room was full of witches and wizards when we got there, maybe one of them just accidentally …'

'No Harry, you don't understand,' said Shacklebolt. 'They were the _only_ ministry members who were meant to know, and most of those witches and wizards don't even leave ministry property most of the time. Draco's capture was of the highest secrecy. If the outside world knows about it, it's because we have a leak.'

'What are we doing about Malfoy?'

'Why would you have to do anything about Malfoy? It's not likely he's the leak, now, is it?' said Ron sarcastically. Ron didn't like to speak about the boy being held at the ministry at all, and when the subject was broached he got very aggressive.

'How long do you think it's going to take for Voldemort to try to murder Malfoy for betraying him, Ronald? That's going to be made especially easy if there is a double agent at the ministry.'

'So what's going to happen?' Lupin asked again.

'McGonagall will be going to …' Kingsley was interrupted by the doorbell and accompanying screeching. 'That might be her now.' He went to go check the door.

'That was quick!' said Ron. They could just hear Kingsley magically unlocking the front door over the din of the portraits in the hallway.

'Wouldn't you think he'd have tried to stop that ruddy portrait?' said Mrs Weasley. She looked torn between going to do the job herself and waiting for Professor McGonagall's news.

'I take it Kingsley has told you all the bad news,' Professor McGonagall said when Kingsley re-entered the kitchen, the witch close behind him.

'Yes,' said Mrs Weasley. 'What are we going to do about Draco's safety?'

'I've already been to see Scrimgeour. Apparently he has little interest in the boy now. He gave him all the information he wanted and I got the distinct impression that the Minister doesn't care what happens to Malfoy anymore.'

'He can't just ignore the boy's wellbeing though!' Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

'You would hope not, but as long as it seems to the community that he's doing a good job, I'm afraid Scrimgeour doesn't care what actually happens to him.'

'We can't let him just sit there waiting to be murdered!' Hermione said.

'Quite right. I've already arranged with the Minister for Draco Malfoy to be taken into the custody of the Order.' The room broke into a maelstrom of objections.

'But how can we manage to keep him in custody?' Lupin demanded. 'Our numbers are already warn too thin to be keeping him guarded.'

'I'm afraid I have misrepresented my intentions. Mr Malfoy is no longer in Ministry custody in that sense … he is under ministry protection, but not arrest. We will be taking over their duties as his protector.'

'What do you mean he's not under arrest anymore?' Harry asked.

Professor McGonagall hesitated, but went on cautiously, knowing full well that this subject would be a touchy one for everyone in the room. 'The Minister and Malfoy came to an agreed upon arrangement. Malfoy, having given himself in, agreed to take Veritaserum and co-operate completely in any future ministry matters where he is required in exchange for escaping prosecution. He's been in what Scrimgeour calls _Ministry Protection_ ever since, but he only recently was released from answering questions. Now that he's given the Ministry all the information he had I'm afraid Scrimgeour doesn't really care what happens to him.'

The portrait of the old, blaring woman was still screeching from the hallway, and her yells were growing more and more insulting. Harry's nerves were waring and the portrait was grating to his ears.

'But I still don't see how we can do anything to help him,' Lupin said.

'I still don't see why we would want to help him,' Ron put in.

'Draco Malfoy will be going back to Hogwarts tomorrow with the rest of the school.' The room fell silent; even the portrait in the hall seemed to quieten down some, though Harry later suspected that he had simply fallen into a state of shock and lost control of his ears for a moment. When McGonagall realised the effect of her words she took the opportunity of silence to continue on with her plans.

'Since few people outside of the ministry and outside of the darker realms of the magical community know fully the circumstances surrounding Albus' death there should initially be little problem integrating him back into the school community. Plus, since he shares classes and will be sharing living quarters with three Order members, there shouldn't be a problem keeping him under fulltime protection, either.'

'What!' Ron yelled. 'There is no way I'm going to protect that little git!'

'You signed on to be an Order member and to work towards the interests of the Order!' Lupin said fiercely. 'And right now, it is in the Order's interest to keep Draco Malfoy alive. You will follow instructions or you will leave. Your choice.'

Ron shut up, but gave both Lupin and McGonagall stares that could kill.

Harry didn't know what to think. He didn't like the feeling of not knowing how to feel, and lately he was having it much too often. He knew that it _was_ in the Order's interest to protect the boy, and he was almost sure that he had been right about Draco's change of heart. But did that really give Malfoy the right to be forgiven? Could anything Draco ever do make up for what he had already done?

'Bloody hell,' Harry shouted angrily, shooting up from his chair. Because no one had wanted to leave the conversation to shut the old hag up, the screaming of the portrait had continued throughout the entire time McGonagall had been there, and was now driving Harry insane.

Harry stormed towards the hall, Hermione hot on his heels, and Mrs Weasley following behind, realising Harry intended to close the curtains over the magical painting. When Harry reached the portrait its curtains were flailing around wildly and the woman painted into it was screaming and screeching worse than ever. He reached out to grab the curtain, but it flicked him hard in the eye and he yelled, 'Son of a …'

Harry felt his face grow warm with anger and the back of his neck prickle as if it had pins and needles, and he lost control for a moment. Feeling as though he had been pushed forward in time in a great rush he grabbed for the frame of the immovable portrait and pushed all his magical energy at it, tearing it from the wall as though it had always simply hung there. In a moment Harry was back to normal, and the prickles at the back of his neck had gone, but Hermione and Mrs Weasley were staring at him oddly.

'What?' asked Harry dazedly, not quite registering that he had just taken down a portrait that no magic any of the Order members could think of could remove. He let go of the great frame, which finished its journey to the floor like any other regular painting, and as he did Harry noticed how clammy his hand had grown.

Then it struck Harry what he had done. 'How'd I do that?' asked Harry. He reached up to his lip and wiped away something wet. His nose must have started bleeding because his hand had a little blood on it. He looked at Mrs Weasley, and then Hermione, and back to Mrs Weasley, who returned his shocked expression … and then he fainted.

- - - - - - -

'Get up.'

Draco heard the heavy metal door open as the lights flickered on above him. He had no idea if it was day or night, but the lights had gone out and so he had decided to sleep. Now the lights in his small cell in the Ministry of Magic were back on, and so he decided to get up. The big, bulky man now standing in his doorway, telling him to get up had nothing to do with it.

'Come here you little weed.' Draco remained sitting on his bed, head in his hands to protect his eyes from the bright candles hanging from the roof. 'I said come here!' and the big wizard stormed over to Malfoy and picked him up off the bed with one hand.

'But why should I go there? Unless it's because now you're here.' Draco drawled casually. His heart was beating in his ears.

The man slapped him over the side of his head, messing Draco's hair for a moment before it fell naturally, perfectly back into place. 'You probably shouldn't do that again.'

'Oh? And why not, little weed?'

'Bad karma?' Draco suggested, and received another slap over the head.

'Albus Dumbledore was a close personal friend of mine. You're going to pay for what you did. Even if it's not the Ministry who charges you … you're going to pay.'

Draco gave the man a look up and down. '_You_ were a close personal friend of Albus Dumbledore's? I don't think so. You don't even look good enough to have been a close personal friend to his wet nurse.'

This put the bulky man off balance for a moment – what was a wet nurse? – but he gained his self control again and hit Draco in the head once more.

'I told you that wasn't a good idea,' Draco repeated, recovering from the blow.

'And I asked why not?'

'Actually, it's not a good idea,' said a voice from the door. 'At least not when there are witnesses.' The man turned to see who was there, pulling Draco around with him. Standing arched in the doorway was Harry Potter, a girl with a bright bubble-gum-pink bob hairstyle and one of the guards that had been 'protecting' Draco. It had been Harry who had spoken, and he now wore an indifferent look across his face that would rival Draco's.

'And who do you think you are?' asked the man, apparently disregarding the guard, who must have given him access to Draco's room in the first place. 'This kid's got a debt to pay.'

'No doubt,' said Harry. 'And my name's Harry Potter.' The man pulled a shocked face and made gurgling noises in his search for words. 'I know … Oo! Ah! Harry Potter. It's amazing,' Harry said in his most controlled, sarcastic voice. 'Just put him down.'

'Do it Marcus,' said the lanky guard standing next to Harry. 'They've got a letter from the Minister. They're taking him away.'

'What? Where's he going?' Marcus asked Harry.

'That's not really any of your business,' the girl with the funny hair said. She made Draco nervous, and so he pulled an even more uninterested face.

'Oh. Oooh!' said Marcus, apparent understanding dawning on his face. 'You're here to give him his just desserts, then? About time! This one deserves something bad in return for what he did to our world. For what he took.'

'Yeah, he does. Funny how things work out, though,' said the girl.

'You still haven't put him down,' said Harry, unimpressed with how stupid this guy was. Marcus dropped Malfoy to the ground, and much to his embarrassment, Draco fell into a heap on the floor. He scrambled to regain a standing position, hoping he hadn't lost too much face in front of Harry on the first occasion he had seen him in so long.

'Harry,' said Draco, nodding at the dark-haired boy.

'Malfoy.' Harry looked at Malfoy, and walked out of the doorway, back up the hall and out of sight.

The girl with the pink hair followed Harry and the guard came into the cell and pulled Draco to the door, directing him to follow Harry and the girl. Draco started to move, expecting the guard and his friend to follow, but they just shot him dirty looks as he walked. Draco was free of them, apparently, but he was less sure of what to expect with Harry and his friends.

He caught up with the two people walking away from him, neither of whom had looked back to see if he was following them. The hallway continued a little further, and Draco tried to start a conversation with his two leaders.

'Normally I get a name when I meet someone new,' said Draco.

'And normally I put bad wizards in prisons, not take them out of them,' the unnamed girl said.

The walk up the passage, the elevator ride up and the journey across the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic was silent. Draco noted that the fountain of Magical Fellowship (which Dumbledore and Voldemort had destroyed a few years earlier) had been replaced, and a few metres to the left was a new, smaller fountain in memoriam of Dumbledore.

Draco started to cry silently. He was pleased Harry was walking in front of him, and hadn't looked back to him. Draco, with years of experience, stopped himself from crying and wiped his cheeks: he needed Harry's attention and he didn't want to be seen crying.

'Harry?' Draco said quietly.

'What?' Harry asked, walking on, not looking back.

'We need to get my wand.'

'We already have it,' the girl said.

'Oh …'

Draco let one more tear slip from his eye as the three stepped into the lift that would take them out of the Ministry and into the first beam of sunlight Draco had felt in weeks. When they got to the top they stepped out of the false telephone box, and to Draco's dismay he realised it was still nighttime.

The party stopped on the curb just outside the phone box and Draco asked, 'What time is it?'

'Three in the morning.'

Draco tucked his hands up under his arms and asked, 'Where are we going?'

'We're waiting here for the car.'

'Could I have my wand back now please?' It was less of a question than the other two.

Harry and the girl looked at each other, and then at Draco. A black car with dark tinted windows pulled up behind them before they could give an answer. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stepped out of it.

'Ron, Hermione,' Draco said, acknowledging them both.

'Malfoy,' Hermione said.

'Malfoy,' Ron repeated, smashing his fist into Draco's nose.

'Crap!' Draco yelled through a bloody nose, cringing in pain.

'Ronald!' Hermione said sternly. 'That was _not_ productive!'

'Fun, though,' he said, nursing a sore fist. 'We can get back in the car now.' And they did.

'_Episkey_,' the girl said, healing Draco's nose with a wave of her wand. 'And here's your wand back.' She hesitated for a minute. 'Don't use it on Ron.'

'Get in the car Malfoy,' Harry said.

The witch got in the front seat and Harry nudged Draco into the back, and followed him inside. Harry's hand on his side felt weird: a gentler nudge than what Draco could usually have expected of physical contact from Harry Potter: usually the only time they would touch would be when one was punching the other. He decided it was a welcome change.

'My name's Tonks,' the pink haired woman said, 'and I assume you've already recognised Lupin.' Professor Lupin, whom Draco recognised from the year he had taught his Defence Against the Dark Arts class, drove as the girl talked. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron could all fit into the back seat of the magically enhanced car. Tonks and Ginny Weasley sat in the front, with Lupin driving.

'Where are we going?'

'We're taking you guys to the train station so you can make it to the Hogwarts Express in time to go back to Hogwarts,' Tonks said.

'You said it was only three in the morning.'

'They changed the departure time to four so as not to make any scenes. Apparently there's some naughty wizards out there making a fuss and causing all the muggles to be a tad suspicious.'

'Oh …'

'You know, I have to say, Malfoy,' started Hermione, 'it's rather nice to hear you speechless for once. Not up to your usual rhetoric standard?' Harry was shocked to hear her speak like this, until he remembered the years of taunting and name calling Draco had put Hermione through.

'I guess not,' he said, and Harry realised she had a point.

'Anyway,' Tonks went on, 'you've been released into the Order of the Phoenix's custody, and so Headmistress McGonagall will be taking charge of you.'

'Are you all Order, then?' Nobody answered him.

'You'll be expected to join the Hogwarts community as normal and obey everything your instructed to do by professors of the school,' Lupin said. 'You've been moved into Gryffindor house so these three can keep an eye on you. Nobody at the school should know too much about your involvement in last year's episode, so you can just expect the usual level of hatred from your new fellow Gryffindors. Your explanation for the move of house as well as your time off at the end of last year is that your mother worried you would be tainted by the negative aims of your Slytherin friends and have your angelic little soul corrupted. Do you understand, Draco?'

'Yes.'

'Good. It should be made an easier transition for you by the fact that none of your old known associates at Hogwarts will be returning this year. In fact, many students from Slytherin house have been removed from the school by their parents. I couldn't imagine why. And of course, your favourite associate at the school will not be joining the teaching staff this year. I'm afraid Professor Snape's too busy hiding from the Ministry and the Order to teach, now he's finished the assignment He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had given him.'

The car remained silent until it reached the station. 'Ok, everybody out,' Lupin said as he parked the car.

The small group made its way through the station and then through the magical barrier without any hassle, and to Draco's amazement, when he got onto platform 9 and ¾ (not at the same time as Harry) he was greeted by old faces with typical contempt and jealousy, but not with the expected outright hostility. Apparently Dumbledore's death was a bigger mystery to most people than he had first thought.

It was ten to four by the time the five students had made their way onto the Hogwarts Express and found a compartment. Draco took the seat against the window, and sat wondering how this could have possibly happened … how he could possibly have landed himself in this most unlikely situation. Draco Malfoy was returning to Hogwarts, with Harry Potter sworn to protect the boy he hated. Draco shook his head in disbelief and smiled his oh-so-rare smile to his own reflection in the window.

* * *

Review ppl! Pls! 

And I hope you enjoyed :D

Study for exams now. Hope to post again soon though.

Thayle N :D

P.S. Oh ... and i just dicovered the bar thingy!

* * *

see :D

* * *

hehe

* * *

fun fun :p 

Thayle :D


	6. Secrets

Disclaimer: The characters and past events referred to in this fanfic are credited to J.K.Rowling. I have nothing funny to say this time. End transmission.

**Chapter Six**

Secrets

Draco stood in front of Harry, his right hand holding his left arm, shy, blushing. Harry walked up to the blonde and looked him straight in the eyes. He smiled, and Draco smiled back – a timid, unsure smile. And then Harry lent in and pressed his soft lips against Draco's in a slow, delicate kiss that stopped Draco from breathing for fear of shattering it.

Draco did in fact hold his breath, and that, he supposed, was what woke him up. It certainly hadn't been noise from the carriage he was riding in because no one was speaking. Hermione was angry with Ron because Ron was angry with Draco and had snapped at Hermione. Harry – in the way that only Harry Potter could be – was just angry at the world. Draco felt bad for bringing this upon the three people who he had always secretly thought of as the perfect example what a friendship should be.

Draco sat up in his seat and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the three teenagers he was sharing the train compartment with and they looked back. Still no words were shared.

- - - - - - -

The compartment door slid open with a loud crack, surprising Draco and making Ron jump in his seat. Just as Neville Longbottom walked through the door the train gave a lurch, and Neville landed face first at Draco's feat.

'Oomph! Sorry,' he said to Draco as he clung onto his leg and tried to pull himself up. 'Oh, sorry!' He looked at Draco and, apparently only just seeing him for the first time, screamed and fell back down to the floor.

'It's ok, Longbottom,' Draco said. 'I'm not going to curse you for almost squashing me.'

Neville didn't seem to believe him though and when he had gotten back up with help from Harry he stood as far away from Draco as he could get without going back out into the hallway. Ron shifted over and made a space between him and Harry for Neville to sit.

'What … what's going on?' asked Neville.

'Draco's going to be spending a bit of time with us, Neville,' Harry answered. 'His mum doesn't want him being in Slytherin anymore and under the circumstances Professor McGonagall thinks moving him out of the house would be a good idea.'

'So what house is he going to be in now?'

'Gryffindor.' Neville made a little gasping noise that sounded somewhere between the squeak of a mouse and the sound a duck makes. Draco had to try hard not to laugh.

'But … and … why … how …'

'Breathe, Neville,' Hermione said. 'It's ok … Draco's told us that he's changed, and apparently we believe him.'

'Apparently?' said Harry. 'Oh that's nice.'

'Oh Harry, I didn't mean it like that!'

'No, that's fine. Just make sure to _apparently_ … well whatever … put your own sarcastic comment on the end!' and he turned into his own corner and sulked.

Draco thought Harry was cute when he sulked, and it made him feel great to think that Harry had believed him when he had told him he was sorry … even if Harry hadn't wanted him to know it at the time. He doubted Harry wanted him to know it now, and if he pressed the subject Harry would deny it … but his reaction to Hermione's statement had made it fairly clear to Draco how Harry felt about his apology.

'Have you seen anyone else yet, Neville?' Ron asked.

'I just came from a carriage with Seamus and Luna.'

'Oh I bet Seamus is loving that,' Ron said, smiling wickedly.

'He's not in a good mood at all.'

'I thought he would be,' Hermione said. 'He must have had to have really fought with his mum to let him come back this year. I would have thought he'd be happy just to be here.'

'Well he wouldn't be, having to keep old Loopy Luna entertained like that. You should get back to him … not leave him by himself for too long.'

'No, it's not that. Dean sent him an owl the other week: he said his mum wouldn't let him come back to Hogwarts this year.'

Hermione spun around to face Neville. 'What? Why? Dean's not even got magical parents. How did _they_ find out about our world?'

'Seamus said that they read his journal and when they found out about …'

'They read his _journal_? What's he doing keeping a journal?' Ron asked, incredulous that a boy should keep a diary.

'Ron, that's not the point,' Hermione said dismissively. 'Go on Neville.'

'Well Seamus said that when Dean's mum found out about the war and Dumbledore and … and about living with you, Harry …'

'What? What've I got to do with anything?' Harry demanded.

'Seamus said that Dean's mum said that it couldn't be safe, sleeping in the same room as the boy who You-Know-Who is out to kill. I'm sorry Harry.'

This news made Harry feel much worse, but in a way it was a relief. Harry had been getting bogged down in trying to figure out confusing feelings he was shaping about Malfoy – unsure if he was friend or foe, if he could or ever should forgive him for his role in Dumbledore's death. This new news, as infuriating as it was, gave him an excuse to vent his anger on someone other than his friends.

'Well then Dean's mum's an idiot then,' Harry said fuming. 'How can she think that Voldemort's just going to waltz into the school – into our common room, for that matter – and kill me _or_ Dean.'

'Well he has had Death Eaters in there before,' Draco interjected. The face he pulled as soon as he had said it showed how horrified he was at how stupid a thing it had been to say, but the damage was done now.

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'and we all know whose fault that was.' He shot Draco a death stare the likes of which Harry had never seen coming from Ron before, and pushed himself off his seat and dragged a confused looking Neville out of the train compartment.

'You should go after him,' Harry said to Hermione, who was looking more worried.

'I've never seen him so angry. Not even when you were entered into the Tri-wizard, Harry,' she said, a sad, worried expression on her face.

'Go,' Harry said sympathetically, nodding towards the door to the hall. Hermione got up and left, looking down the hall for Ron.

'I'm sorry Harry. That was a really stupid thing to say,' Draco said.

'No kidding. You know what? Just don't talk to me at all, Malfoy.' Harry said grumpily, turning back to his corner. 'I may have to protect you, but I don't have to talk to you to do that.' A long silence was drawn out between the two old enemies.

'For what it's worth, I think Dean's mum's an idiot too.'

- - - - - - -

Draco hadn't felt as out of place at Hogwarts since his first night as a first year student there. He no longer wore green and silver – his robes had magically changed colours to Gold and Red, the Gryffindor colours, and Draco felt completely out of place. Not only that, but the school itself felt wrong.

At the train station was the first time anyone had had a chance to assess the damage the previous year's events had had on the student body, and Draco was surprised so many parents had pulled their children out of Hogwarts. Many of the Slytherin sixth and seventh years Draco had been friendly with were missing (though the damage was not quite as bad as Lupin had first suggested) and Draco noticed that well formed groups that everyone had always seen as strong bonds of friendships were now missing one or even two of the students in them. No group seemed untouched by the breaking of Hogwarts' defences last year, and Draco felt another strong pang of guilt over what he had done and the consequences his actions had held, even down to friends being torn apart at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He looked around for familiar faces but saw that none of his old gang was there. No Crabbe, no Goyle, no Pansy. It made him sad to see that he was having to start completely anew, but he realised it was probably for the best. Had his friends been there he would have been outed right away … they all knew his dirty little secret because of their parents positions in the Dark Arts…they all knew he had betrayed Voldemort and had killed Dumbledore.

'What are you looking around at?' asked Ron, who had returned to Harry's side moments ago. 'Looking for the next person you can off?'

'Shut up, Ron,' Harry said. Draco was surprised by this – almost as surprised as Ron seemed to be. Ron shut up and didn't say anything else until they had reached the carriages that would take them to the Hogwarts castle.

'Can you see them, Draco?' he asked in an undertone, malicious, quietly enough for Harry not to notice. This year Draco could see the ugly creatures that pulled the carriages – a mark of his having seen someone die. It had been Dumbledore he had seen die, and Ron knew he would have been able to see the terrible creatures. Draco shot him a death stare and climbed into the carriage, sitting next to Harry, leaving an empty space next to Hermione for Ron.

The short ride gave Draco an opportunity to do something he had been meaning to address since he had seen Hermione outside the Ministry. The ride was short enough that if what he wanted to say backfired he would not have to spend too much time with the three Gryffindors, but was also inescapable, so that he knew he would be heard out.

'Hermione,' Draco said, 'I wanted to say something to you.'

Hermione looked up from her lap. 'Oh? What's that?'

'I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for all those times I called you a Mudblood and said you were a bad witch. And for all the terrible things I'd said in general. And for telling people you were shagging Dean Thomas …'

'What!' both Ron and Hermione said in unison.

'Oh … well anyway. I'm sorry,' he finished.

'Whole lot of good that does.'

'I don't really care if you believe me or not, Weasley,' Draco said. 'I just wanted Granger to know that all those things I said I didn't mean … that it was just what was expected of Lucius Malfoy's son.'

'A likely story,' Ron said.

Hermione looked from Ron to Harry, and finally at Malfoy. She took a moment, staring him in the eyes, and Draco held her gaze. 'I accept your apology,' she said finally. Ron's jaw dropped to the bottom of the carriage.

'You don't actually believe him, do you?' Ron asked, flabbergasted.

Hermione gave Draco another long, piercing stare. 'I do.'

'Has the whole world gone mad?' Ron asked. He was answered with silence. 'I guess so.'

- - - - - - -

When Harry, Ron, Hermione and a new Gryffindor boy sat down together at the Gryffindor table the Great Hall buzzed with a whisper of questions. When people began to realise that it was Draco Malfoy, and that Harry and he weren't trying to tear each other's eyes out, but instead were simply ignoring each other politely, the entire hall erupted in surprise.

'What are you doing?' Seamus Finnegan shot at Harry from where he sat just across the long Gryffindor table. 'What are you doing eating with him?'

'_He_ has a name, Finnegan.'

'No,' Seamus said, looking directly at Malfoy for the first time, 'that's my name.' Draco looked as though he had no idea how to reply to that. Obviously no one on the Slytherin table would ever be so flippant.

'Anyway, what's he doing here? And in Gryffindor colours?' Seamus demanded of Harry.

'His mum wanted him moved from Slytherin so he wouldn't be affected by all the prats in there – you know, all the Death Eater's kids.'

'Well I would have thought the first step would be to not marry and have a kid with a Death Eater if she was so worried about that!' Seamus said, glaring at Malfoy. Harry had to admit, he had a point.

'Look,' Draco said to Harry, 'this obviously isn't going to stand up. I don't know what idiot came up with it. I'm here,' he said, turning to Seamus, 'because I ran out on my father and on Voldemort and now McGonagall's moved me from Slytherin to keep me away from all of them and so Harry can protect me. Satisfied?' he shot.

'So you've left your father?' Draco nodded. 'And you've run off from Voldemort and his Death Easters?' Draco nodded again. 'And McGonagall believes you?'

'Yes,' Draco said.

'Then yes,' Seamus said, and he went back to his mashed potatoes.

'How did you manage to convince your mum to let you come back this year?' Hermione asked. 'You had to fight tooth and nail to stay at the end of last year, even for Dumbledore's funeral.'

'Well she almost didn't let me, but I told her that if she didn't let me come back than I would just come back anyway.'

'And she took you to that?'

'Haha, no! She wouldn't talk to me for a whole day after I threatened to leave!'

'So how did you manage to convince her?'

'I didn't.'

'What?' Ron asked.

'I ran away. I expect she'll be coming up here any day now to try to get me back.' The part of the table that had been listening to Seamus' conversation laughed and everyone went back to eating the beginning of term feast.

Harry noticed that a lot of people who hadn't heard Draco's explanation kept looking over to where they sat, and Seamus kept glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye, obviously still not completely satisfied with what he had told him. This was a point that made itself very clear once the seventh year boys had finished the feast and gone up to their dorms.

'What are you doing?' Seamus asked when Draco made to get into Dean's old bed.

'I'm getting into bed,' he said, starting to undress. Harry saw something small fly across the room, from Seamus' bed to Draco's, and hit Draco in the head with a loud thump. Seamus had thrown his shoe at Draco.

'You're not sleeping in Dean's bed!' Seamus shouted. The Irish boy leapt across his own bed and tackled Draco to the floor before he could even reply to Seamus' comment.

'What the hell are you doing?' Harry shouted, jumping onto Seamus while Neville tried to grab hold of one of his legs, which was flailing around while Seamus tried to keep Draco pinned to the floor. Ron watched on with glee.

'He's not sleeping in Dean's bed!'

'But it's not … oomph!' Harry got kicked in the head by one of Seamus' flailing legs.

'Bloody hell,' Ron said, and went over to help Neville restrain Seamus.

Seamus stopped moving about when he realised he had hurt Harry, and Ron and Neville lifted him off Draco. The blonde boy was the most dishevelled Harry had ever seen him, having been half undressed already when Seamus had jumped him, and with his hair in a total mess. The sight made Harry's stomach flip in a weird unfamiliar way.

'What are you doing?' Ron asked Seamus, who had now stopped moving altogether. The other boys watched on in horror as the Irish boy went from fierce rage to breaking down into tears, and Ron and Neville, having no idea what to do, dropped him. Seamus picked himself up and stormed out of the dormitory. In a way Harry was glad for the scene, as it stopped him thinking about what he had just felt seeing Draco half dressed and dishevelled like that.

'What now?' Neville asked.

'Go to bed, I guess,' Harry said.

'Where?' Draco asked, looking thoroughly unsure of what to do now.

'Use Dean's old bed.'

'But he just said …'

'I know,' Harry said, 'but it's the only other bed in here. The boys finished getting ready for bed (Harry stopped himself from looking over at Draco as he got changed … couldn't even figure out why he had to stop himself in the first place) and one by one got into bed. Then Harry realised that in situations like this it would have been Dean who would have gone to find Seamus and make sure he was ok. Harry got back out of bed and went out into the staircase.

'Hey,' said Harry when he found a still crying Seamus just up the tower a little from their dorm.

'Hey,' Seamus replied miserably, wiping a tear from his cheek. Harry sat down next to him.

'What was all that about.'

'Sorry for kicking you in the face.'

'Don't worry about it. Seamus, what's up?'

'I miss him.'

'I know you were best friends, but you've still got Neville. And you've got me and Ron …'

'It's not that. Dean was my _best_ friend. He was special.' Harry couldn't quite understand what Seamus was trying to tell him. The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

'Maybe Dean's mum will change her mind. Maybe when she sees nothing bad happens at Hogwarts then …'

'It's not that,' Seamus said. 'And she won't change her mind.'

'But if it's not because of Voldemort…?'

Seamus began to cry again. 'It's my fault, Harry. Dean's mam won't let him come back because of me. And I came even when I knew. Even when my mam didn't want me to. I shouldn't be here! It's my fault!' and Seamus started sobbing now as well as crying. Harry moved closer to him and Seamus turned to rest his head on his shoulder. It was cold up the tower and Harry was just in his pyjamas, so Seamus' warmth was welcome. The boy cried for another couple of minutes before he grew silent once again except for the occasional hiccup.

'Seamus, what did you mean by Dean's mum won't let him come back because of you?'

'She read his journal.'

'But that's not your fault! If anything it's mine! You shouldn't be blaming yourself. Blame me. If I wasn't here …'

'No … that's just what I told Neville.'

'Then what?'

'Dean and I … me and Dean were … Oh, don't worry Harry.'

'Seamus, it's ok … you can tell me.'

The boy sniffed and moved away from Harry to look him properly in the eye. 'Dean's mam found out that Dean and me were together.'

'What do you…? Oh!'

Seamus looked like he was about to cry again and looked down at his feet, Harry noticed only one of which still had a shoe on it.

'Hey,' Harry said. 'Don't cry.' Seamus sniffed loudly and Harry burst into laughter. Seamus looked at Harry in shock, but then smiled himself.

'I'm sorry,' Seamus said.

'Don't be. I can't believe Dean's mum would do that!'

'It's my fault. I shouldn't be here. If I wasn't here …'

'Don't say that again. It's not your fault. It's his mum's fault. You have just as much right to get a magical education as anyone else.'

Seamus sat there silently for a moment and then said, 'Thanks Harry.' The boy seemed to realise that Harry was in his pyjamas for the first time and said, 'Geez, you must be freezing!'

Harry laughed. 'A little. Come on.' He got up and offered Seamus a hand up too.

'So you're not freaked out … that me and Dean … that we were going out?'

'What? No. But Dean was going out with Ginny.'

'Yeah,' Seamus said. 'He says he likes me better, though,' he added with a cheeky grin on his face. 'Don't tell Ron but, Harry. Please?'

'About Dean liking you more than his sister?' Harry laughed.

'No … about Dean and me. He wouldn't understand.'

'Ok, I won't. But what about Hermione?' It seemed strange that Seamus wouldn't say not to tell Ron _and_ Hermione.

'Oh, Hermione's known for ages. She guessed some time last year.'

'Oh.'

The two boys walked back down to their room and split up to go to their separate beds. Harry noticed that Seamus was too worn out from crying to even look to see if Draco had taken Dean's bed.

* * *

Thank you sososo much to everyone who reviewed or sent me an email. I realise that I was being a little desperate sounding last week, so I will do the opposite now and say _please don't review!_ (Let's see if reverse psychology really works!!)

But an especially BIG thank-you to leisalmae for your wonderfully kind words, cdlowe8 for your time and coments and Dragenphly for your suggestion (I took it :D)

Hope you enjoyed,

Thayle N

P.S. Exams are over so Woo Hoo!


	7. Feeling Ways

Disclaimer: The characters and past events referred to in this fanfic belong to J.K.Rowling, queen of the world. Thanks go out to Rachy and Nikki who both pointed out a few important things to me that will hopefully be addressed in this chapter. Cheers!

**Chapter Seven**

Feeling Ways

Draco woke the first morning of his new school career in a fit of panic. He had opened his eyes and been shocked by his strange surroundings. Red velvet boxed him in instead of the usual green silk and a strong beam of light pierced through his bed hangings in a way that nothing normal or safe would ever do in the Slytherin dungeons. It wasn't until a moment later when Draco realised that he was not _in_ the Slytherin dungeons that he settled.

Already having leapt out of bed in his moment of panic however, Draco stood in the middle of the seventh year Gryffindor dorm room looking both embarrassed and ashamed at how he had let his guard down. He looked around coyly, hoping no one had seen his momentary lapse in self-control.

'I saw that,' said an amused, muffled voice from the bed across from his. Harry was apparently awake and ready to poke fun.

'Saw what?' Draco demanded angrily, embarrassed at letting Potter see him in such an uncontrolled state.

'Saw you leaping out of bed like the twat you are.'

'Malfoy's don't leap.'

'Nice to see you fall back so easily on the name of Malfoy, considering you only recently gave it up.'

'I never gave the name of Malfoy up … I gave my father up. There's a difference. The Malfoy name hasn't always been dirty; there was a time when we were recognised as one of the strongest and noblest wizarding families in the magical world.'

'And now,' Harry said, 'you're known for muggle and wizard killings, playing in the Dark Arts and serving Voldemort, the most despised wizard ever known.'

'Well it won't stay that way forever,' Draco said. 'Sooner or later my father will die or will be captured by Ministry wizards and then I'll make Malfoy a respectable name again.' Harry laughed. 'What?' Draco demanded. Harry nodded to Draco's midriff and Draco realised he had been making these declarations and speeches in nothing but his pyjama bottoms.

'Very respectable, Draco,' Harry said, rolling over and dropping his head back down on his pillow.

Draco stood for a moment, a gentle breeze from the open window playing across his chest, watching The Boy Who Lived lay there, his eyelids closed and fluttering gently, his face relaxed and serene. Draco had never seen Harry like this before. For some time Draco had been experiencing strange, strong emotions for Harry that he had never expected to feel for anybody else, let alone Harry Potter. Like everything else in his life, Draco had at first felt he must control and understand these emotions or else it would be inevitable that something horrible would happen. He had tried to analyse what he was feeling – perhaps it was a psychological leap to the nearest symbol of power, maybe it was an obsession with Harry as a symbol of morals and goodness, qualities he now felt he needed to achieve – but none of these had seemed to fit … they had all been too sterile and rational to explain what he had been feeling for the boy he had hated only a few years ago.

Draco had finally decided to give up trying to figure these feelings out, or else he could tell he would do his head in. But already he noted these feelings as the cause for so many changes in his life: his change of heart about how to approach muggle borns like Hermione (if Harry could be friends with them so could Draco – nay, so _should_ Draco), his attempts to drop the persona of _evil incarnate_ he had built up so easily, so naturally over his time at Hogwarts.

Had Draco known whether he wanted to be a better person first and then found himself liking Harry, or he had unknowingly found himself feeling these emotions for Harry first and so wanted to defect he may have been able to have uncovered the secret behind what he was now feeling, and explain more rationally to himself why he had defected in the first place, or why he was willing to give up his past so easily.

As it was, however, he had no idea which had come first, and he was left wondering what had driven him to this stage, what had been the catalyst to him standing in Gryffindor tower, almost naked bar a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms, watching Harry Potter trying to get back to sleep and finding an urgent, growing need to get back to the privacy of his covers himself.

Draco slipped back through the hangings of his new bed and fell back asleep almost instantly. The next sound he heard was a banging as Ron dropped the lid of his trunk back down. Draco grabbed his dressing gown from on top of his bedside table and stumbled back out of his bed. The light shining through the window wasn't the same impossibly bright light that comes with very early morning, but it was obvious to Draco that he was still running on time for classes.

'Arggggh!' Neville screamed from his corner of the room.

'Arggggh!' Ron and Draco both joined in, surprised by Neville's first scream.

'Whatthemeh …?' mumbled a barely awake Seamus as lurched drowsily upright in his bed.

Neville looked shyly across at Draco and Draco rolled his eyes in frustration. Living in Gryffindor house was not going to be as easy as he had first thought. Plus this was the second time he had lost control of his reactions in as many hours.

'I forgot that Draco was supposed to be here,' Neville said weakly.

'Geez, Longbottom. Get a grip!' Draco said. He had thought this was very understated and had been proud at the resistance he had shown in not calling Neville a big fat dud, but apparently not everyone in the room shared this view.

'Don't tell him to get a grip,' Seamus said, looking very bedraggled but also indignant. 'This is his dorm!'

'Mine now, too,' Draco said, meaning for it to come out casually but sounding much more antagonistic than casual.

'We could change that,' Ron said, pulling his wand from his robe pocket (he was, unusually, already dressed for the school day ahead) and pointing it squarely at Draco's chest. The door to the room opened and Harry walked in, his hair damp and flat having obviously just finished getting changed after a shower in the boy's bathroom at the top of the tower.

'What the hell are you doing, Ron?' he asked, crossing the room to where Ron was standing, wand still trained on Draco. 'We're meant to be protecting Draco, not blasting a hole through him!' Harry stood between Ron and Draco and pushed Ron's wand hand down.

'Listen,' Harry said to the room at large now. 'I know that it's a bitter pill to swallow, but this is how things have to be. Draco's a Gryffindor now, if not by choice then because McGonagall wants it that way. So you all just have to deal with it. Besides …' Harry said, his voice dropping off a little now. 'This is what Dumbledore would have wanted.'

The room remained silent for a second, but Draco saw that Seamus obviously still had something to say, and in a fashion that he assumed would become common in any future interactions he might have with Seamus in the future, the Irish boy spoke his mind bluntly and without regard for social norms. 'How would you know what Dumbledore would have wanted?' Seamus asked Harry.

'I had been talking to Dumbledore about Draco a few days earlier.' Harry mumbled. 'And I was there when he … when he died.'

'And the last thing he said was "become great mates with Draco Malfoy"?' Seamus asked doubtingly.

'No, stupid,' Harry said. 'It was just clear what Dumbledore would have wanted.

Draco thought back to that horrible time on top of the tower just before Dumbledore had been murdered. He remembered that Dumbledore had given him second chances, had offered to protect him and his family, had wanted him to defect then and there, instead of waiting until it was too late …

Seamus, uncharacteristically, Draco thought, let the matter drop.

- - - - - - -

Harry stood in the centre of the room, hoping he had diffused several future fights by bringing Dumbledore up so early in this catastrophic series of events. He had played his ace card – Dumbledore's memory – and hoped that it would be enough to get him through the doubts of at least his roommates, because he had nothing better than that to play with.

Harry looked over to Draco, who was looking back at Harry in a strange way. Harry wiped a piece of his wet hair out of his eyes and Draco broke out of his trance, turning and looking for something in his trunk. The odd moment made Harry think of the events of that morning, before everyone else was awake. The way the sight of Draco's bare chest and arms and loose fitting bottoms had made Harry feel butterflies in his stomach, the way the image stuck with him into his short sleep afterwards, where he had dreamed of running a finger down that smooth, lean chest, down to Draco's belly button, further down to the waistband of his pants, to the chord that held them up …

Harry had felt fluttering before, but that had always been when he looked at Choo, or later when he had seen Ginny in _that_ way for the first time. Nothing was quite like the exhilarating excitement he had felt that morning though, the dream that had made his morning shower a necessity more than a tool to wake him up before morning classes began.

He was quite sure that he had loved Ginny. He had felt and cared for her a great deal, and had the pleasure of getting those butterflies every time they touched or kissed or sometimes even when Harry had just unexpectedly run into her in the halls. He put down that morning's burst of excitement to beginning of term nerves, or simply the early hour of the morning and its proximity to a night's sleep that must have been full of pleasurable experiences with _girls_. Draco was nothing to Harry.

'You coming?' Ron asked Harry, who was already heading down the steps of the tower.

'Yeah, yeah.' Harry said, casting a quick, guilty look back at where Draco was still searching for something in his chest.

Harry and Ron met Hermione in the common room like they did every Hogwarts morning. 'How're you going, Hermione?' Harry asked her.

'I'm good. You two?'

'Fine,'

'Ron's annoyed 'cause …'

'Because of Malfoy again?' Hermione finished.

'Yes. I walked in this morning and he was pointing his wand at him.'

'Who? Draco was pointing his wand at Ron?'

'No, Ron was pointing his wand at Draco, and Draco didn't even have his wand on him.'

'Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not even here?' Ron said angrily. 'He just gets under my skin, Harry!'

'But we have to deal with it. Maybe you'll even get to like the new Malfoy.' Harry couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.

'I wouldn't count on that,' Hermione said, typically cautious, 'but I'm sure you'll be able to tolerate him soon enough. I mean, he even apologised to me for all the horrible things he's said to me over the years …'

'Yeah, and it worked, too. Well I'm not going to trust him as easily as you two are!'

'Ron,' Hermione said, 'please just look at the facts: McGonagall wants us to trust him, or to at least protect him; Dumbledore always wanted the different house groups to get along and for Harry to forgive Draco … you know what he said on that towertop …'

'Yeah, before Malfoy killed him!'

'… Draco handed over a whole bunch of information to the ministry; he's obviously making an effort to make amends. None of that means we have to forgive him or ever like him … but it _does_ mean that we should at least give it a go.'

'Hermione's right, Ron. I _never_ thought I'd be defending Draco, but I honestly think she's right. Draco's a changed guy … or he's at least trying to change. We can give him a go.'

'But … but he's Draco Malfoy … he's evil!'

'I know!' Harry said. 'I know that's how he was … maybe how he still is … but every time I think "this is crazy, I could never forgive Draco," or "what are you thinking, Draco's never going to change," I keep going back to the time I saw him in the bathroom, so terrified of Voldemort … and I still keep going back to the one thing that makes me think Draco is capable of change …'

'Oh?' Ron said scornfully. 'What's that?'

'He lowered his wand …'

'What?' Ron asked, clearly having no idea what Harry was talking about.

'The night Snape killed Dumbledore … Draco had been standing there, with Dumbledore defenceless for minutes at least. He could have killed Dumbledore with no trouble at all, and taken all the credit for himself. Instead, he lowered his wand. If Snape and the other Death Eaters hadn't come up that tower when they did Dumbledore would still be alive today, because Draco definitely wasn't going to kill him. He lowered his wand.'

By the time Harry had finished speaking a silence had fallen over the small group, and he had managed to convince just the tiniest part of Ron's mind that maybe, just maybe, Draco Malfoy wasn't all bad.

- - - - - - -

'Why didn't you tell me Seamus and Dean were together?' Harry asked Hermione quietly in the main entrance. Ron had gone ahead to catch up with Neville, who had obviously dressed and gotten down to breakfast as fast as he could to get away from Draco in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory.

'Because it was none of your business. It was none of my business really, only I guessed. Besides, Seamus made me promise not to tell anyone.'

'But you could have told me,' whined Harry.

'No I couldn't!' Hermione said hotly. 'This is something very personal, and you can't tell anyone either, Harry!'

'I wasn't going to.'

'Good. How did you find out anyway?'

'Seamus told me. He was really upset last night when Draco went to sleep in Dean's bed and then he went crazy and stormed out, so I went to see if he was ok and he was crying on the stairs. Then he just told me.'

'I thought he would take the news about Dean not coming back to Hogwarts harshly.'

'He thinks it's his fault. Dean's mum won't let Dean come back because she found out about Seamus and …'

'And Dean being boyfriends,' Hermione finished. 'I know.'

'How do you know?'

'Seamus told me.'

'What? When?'

'I do have other friends than you and Ron, Harry.'

'I never see you with them.'

'Well you're not always around, are you? What do you think I do when you lot are all off playing quiditch or complaining about all the homework you've got … or actually doing all the homework you've got and I've finished. Do you think I just stand around, twiddling my thumbs?'

'No, of course not. I just didn't know you and Seamus were that close.'

'Well were not _that_ close, but Seamus is a friendly guy once you get to know him, and we get along well.'

Harry thought for a moment. 'How did you guess?' he asked.

'Well, they were always spending so much time together, and after Ginny and Dean broke up Dean started spending almost all of his time with Seamus and Seamus was walking around a lot happier … I just guessed.'

'So, do you think you could tell if any other guys had … feelings for other guys?'

'Why, does Harry have a crush on someone?' Hermione laughed. 'Come on, breakfast will go cold and we'll miss our timetables.' Hermione walked off into the great hall with Harry following close behind.

Their breakfast was not cold, and they did not miss the handing out of their new timetables, but there was a surprise in store for the Gryffindor table. The role of dispatching timetables for the year's lessons generally fell to the head of house. This year however, instead of Professor McGonagall handing out the sheets of magically approved paper, Professor Trelawney was hovering up and down the Gryffindor table.

'No,' Ron said. 'It can't be!'

'Oooo … McGonagall wouldn't do it!' Hermione said, almost pleadingly.

The three friends looked over to the Slytherin table. Professor Slughorn, the potions master, had replaced Snape in his duties. 'And didn't Slughorn used to be Slytherin head before he retired?' Harry asked.

Professor Trelawney made her way to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry noticed that along with her usually swishing robes and the heavy smell of cooking sherry floating around her, Professor Trelawney had also developed a funny tick over the holidays. Magnified a hundred times by her massive glasses, the woman's left eye kept twitching at every loud sound made (and there were quite a lot in the great hall that morning) and looked on guard constantly, as though someone were about to leap out at her at every moment.

'Oh, good morning Harry, Ron,' she said, completely ignoring Hermione. 'How are you both? No terrible fortunes realised over the holidays, I hope.' She handed the three students their timetables. Draco came walking towards Harry, dressed in Gryffindor robes that did not quite suit his personality.

Professor Trelawney reacted as though she had seen a troll walking towards her. She screamed loudly, drawing the attention of every student and teacher in the hall, and pointed a bony finger attached to a completely outstretched arm at Draco. 'What,' she yelled in a high pitch, terrified scream, 'What is he dong here?'

After Dumbledore's death the students of Hogwarts had not had time to be filled in on the details of who was present – the assumption was that Death Eaters had somehow penetrated the school on their own and a sick Dumbledore was defeated. Almost no students (bar Harry, Ron, Hermione and obviously Draco) knew of Draco's involvement or of the circumstances surrounding Dumbledore's weakened state. The teachers, on the other hand, were informed by Professor McGonagall on the finer details surrounding Dumbledore's death. Apparently, however, not all of the teachers had been informed of Draco's change of heart.

'Why has that boy returned?' Professor Trelawney screamed again. All eyes in the great hall were trained on the woman now. 'How could the murde…?'

'_Silencio_,' Hermione muttered under her breath, pointing her wand at Professor Trelawney under her sleeve and causing the professor to magically fall silent. Her mouth kept moving though, and apparently she was not aware that no sound was coming out. Professor McGonagall came running towards the scene.

'Sybil, Sybil, it's ok,' she said. 'I moved Draco into your house; it's not a prank. There's no need to be offended,' the new headmistress said, trying to convince the students watching that there was nothing to see. 'All my mistake, I'm sorry Sybil I should have told you sooner.'

'Tsk, tsk, Hermione,' Seamus said jocularly from behind Harry, where he had snuck up some time in the last few minutes. 'You really should be using non-verbal spells in that kind of situation. Wouldn't want people finding out you're casting spells on teachers to … to … what _were_ you doing?'

'Oh, not now Seamus, I'm sorry,' said Hermione. The young witch set off after Professor McGonagall, who was leading Professor Trelawney towards the staff table. Harry and Ron followed. So too did Draco. 'Professor! Professor!' she called.

'Yes, miss Granger, Professor McGonagall said as she handed over the still shaking Sybil Trelawny to Professor Sprout.

'Professor, I was just wondering … well I was just wondering what it meant that Trelawney was handing out our timetables.'

'Professor Trelawney has been made … I have had no choice but to make … oh I _am_ sorry, Hermione,' said a woman who was trying desperately and failing miserably (and exceptionally uncharacteristically) to remain detached and unemotional, 'but as I have taken on so many new duties and no other teacher wanted the extra work, I have had no choice but to make Trelawney the new head of Gryffindor house.' Though Professor McGonagall usually had the utmost respect for her fellow teaching staff, she and Hermione had always shared a common dislike of Professor Trelawney and the kind of _magic_ she practiced, divination. Even so, both Ron and Harry stood shocked to hear professor McGonagall speak so frankly.

'Well … I understand,' Hermione said pathetically, downtrodden. 'There's one more thing, though. There seems to be a mistake on our timetables,' she said. Harry looked at what she held in her hands and recognised the three of their timetables. He hadn't even noticed her take his from him. 'Where we should have free periods we have a new class that none of us put down for: "Magical Research and Trawling Skills".'

'No, miss Granger,' Professor McGonagall said, readopting her firm, in control tone. 'That is not a mistake. You have all …' She paused for a moment and looked pointedly at Malfoy, who had followed Harry and Hermione. He took the hint and moved out of hearing range.

'You have all been assigned time in your school timetables to work with the records kept by Professor Dumbledore on the issues you and he, Harry, had been working on towards … towards the end. As Order members you will have more or less full disclosure to the papers and artefacts Albus left us. I promised that if you came back to Hogwarts that you would be aided more than if you went out on your own, and this is the best way I know how. Use your time wisely, and note that you cannot tell any other student about anything you find in this time or allow them to know what you are doing. The guise of the new elective was created to allow you to work together without arousing suspicion from those among us who are under Voldemort's control.'

'Under Voldemort's control?' Harry asked.

'Certainly. It is most like Voldemort to try to penetrate any form of magical establishment, and now Albus is gone there is no doubt that he will try, or has already tried, to do so again. Mind, we do not know if Voldemort's agent will be working of his or her own free will, under the Imperius Curse or because he or she is being threatened by Voldemort. So keep your wits about you at all times and ensure that you remain on top of Mr Malfoy at _all times_, for his own protection as much as ours. Do you understand?' She looked mostly at Ron when she asked.

'Yes, ma'am,' he replied, dejected.

'Good,' Professor McGonagall said. 'Well then, I have to go and see if Professor Trelawney is all right. Oh, and miss Granger, next time you intend to cast a spell on Order business, do try not to use your mouth so much. We teach you non-verbal spells for a reason.' The witch walked towards the staff table, leaving behind a very flustered looking Hermione.

* * *

A.N:

Heya :D

Thank-you to everyone who posted comments or reviews, or sent me emails regarding _Defect_. All of the reviews are really wonderfully useful and every comment you give makes me feel great :D

I'd especially like to thank Rachi and Nikky again for their comments, which pointed out a few flaws that I needed to pay attention to, and I hope I have at least made a start in this chapter.

BabyKeepItSurreal – Draco was certainly abused by his father, but not necessarily in the way you may be thinking. Draco suffered greatly in his family and in his childhood through emotional abuse and violence, all of which will most likely be explored a little in the next few chapters. Thanks for your question : )

Dragenphly & Cdlowe8, thank you both for your continued support and (along with karma avery) for your kind words, and the interest you're showing :D

Happy Reading!

Thayle N


	8. A Dramatic Entrance

Disclaimer: The characters and past events referred to in this fanfic belong to J.K. Rowling. She chains them up at night, but will occasionally let we little people take them out for a play and give them back to her. Draco, I imagine, enjoys the chains.

**Chapter Eight **

A Dramatic Entrance  


Eyes travelled over the four seventh year students as they moved from class to class and whispers echoed in their wake. Hogwarts was suddenly full of students with nothing better to do than stare at Harry and co. as they moved through the halls.

'You'd think they had nothing better to do than stare,' Draco murmured between third and fourth period.

'Welcome to our life!' Ron said.

Things hadn't gotten much better by lunchtime. Ron, Hermione, Harry and Draco all fell into place along the Gryffindor table across from Seamus. 'You four really do know how to make a scene, don't you?' he asked no one in particular.

'We're not doing anything!' Draco said. 'What are they all so interested in anyway?'

Ron, who Harry had noticed had take the place as absolutely far away from Draco as possible, said, 'Well you and Harry obviously.'

'Everyone around here has grown up knowing you two as mortal enemies,' Hermione put in. 'Now you're in the same house and eating lunch together all chummy can you really blame them for taking an interest?'

'Well some of us are taking much more than just an interest,' Seamus said, nodding towards the Slytherin table. Harry looked in their direction and, different from the looks of curiosity and surprise the rest of the school were giving the quartet, the Slytherin table were shooting scowls and stares at Malfoy.

'Looks like you're in for it when any of them get you alone,' Ron said to Malfoy, making precious little effort to hide the glee in his voice.

Hermione made to scold the red head, but whatever word had begun to make itself out of her mouth quickly morphed itself into a yelp. The big doors to the entrance hall had been flung open and when Harry spun around with the rest of the school to see who had made the rather impressive entrance his eyes met with the picture of a woman on a mission.

'Oh bloody hell,' Seamus said, turning even whiter than usual.

'Seamus Finnegan!' the woman bellowed. Seamus shrank into his seat. 'Seamus Finnegan!' the woman yelled again.

'Can I be of any assistance, Mrs Finnegan?' Professor McGonagall asked the woman sternly.

'That's your mum?' Ron asked the top of Seamus's head, astonished.

'Yup,' came the muffled reply.

'Where is my son?' Harry heard Mrs Finnegan ask through clenched teeth.

'Why don't you wait outside in the entrance hall and I'll bring him out to you?' Professor McGonagall suggested.

'No bother,' Mrs Finnegan replied, 'I won't be long.'

Seamus, who had apparently heard Professor McGonagall's suggestion and thought it was a good one, had begun to rise from his seat before he had heard his mother reject the idea. He froze like a statue of someone with a terrible stomachache when his mother's eyes rested on him.

'Seamus!' Mrs Finnegan roared over the silence of the great hall.

'Yes ma'am?' Seamus choked out. His voice was only a shadow of it's normal self, but everyone in the great hall could hear it.

'What do you think you're doing leaving me that note and coming back to Hogwarts against my _express_ wishes! How do you think that makes me feel! What did you think your father and I would do when we realised what had happened!' None of these were questions. 'Get your little butt over here NOW!' she screamed.

Seamus jumped up and ran to where his mother and Professor McGonagall stood.

'We're leaving!' Mrs Finnegan said. She spun around, and nodded a quick good-bye to Professor McGonagall and made her way to the door. She only took a few steps though before everyone in the hall realised that Seamus wasn't moving, and though Harry would have thought it was impossible, the silence grew thicker than ever.

'I won't leave,' Seamus said.

Mrs Finnegan stopped in her tracks and turned, slowly, to face her rogue son. 'We're leaving Seamus.'

'No … you're leaving, I'm staying. I won't leave Hogwarts … this is where I belong.'

'You belong at home with your father and I, because that's where I say you belong.'

'I'm not leaving,' Seamus said, a little louder this time.

'We've been through this Seamus. It's not safe here anymore … Hogwarts is a target for … for the Death Eaters. Dumbledore himself was killed here last year, and I won't have you in this place when even Dumbledore wasn't safe here.'

'I'm not leaving.'

'What … you think you're safer than Dumbledore was? You think you're going to be able to fight off the Death Eaters when Dumbledore fell to them?'

'No … but I'm not leaving either.'

'YOU WILL!' Mrs Finnegan screamed.

'NO,' Seamus yelled, almost as loud as his mother, 'I WON'T!' The boy was now standing to his full height, his fists clenched by his side, and a scowl that remarkably resembled his mother's was etched across his face. 'Don't you get it? This is my home now! This is where I can help fight against Voldemort the most!' The hall shivered at the sound of his name. 'This is where I'll learn to stand up for myself and to fight and to fight for good and not at home where you're afraid to even let me out of the house! You're always fighting for freedom and choice for wizards and witches, but when it comes to your own son …'

'That's different.' Mrs Finnegan said, red in the face but looking a little abashed.

'No it's not! Last week you lead a rally with hundreds of wizards and witches damning any force that would want to ban muggle-magical relationships but you won't even let me stay at Hogwarts! You practically spat in Voldemort's eye and said, "take that!" but it's too much for me to want to stay here to learn what I need to know to fight them in my own way. You're a hypocrite, and a fraud and … and I'm not leaving!'

Mrs Finnegan opened her mouth, and then closed it again, only to have it open, and finally close once more. She looked at her son through stern eyes. 'I didn't know … you never said that you felt … I always just assumed …'

'Would you like to continue this out in the entrance hall?' Professor McGonagall asked, and Mrs Finnegan nodded silently and swept out through the double doors. McGonagall followed, but Seamus didn't move for a moment, the apparent shock of what he had just done keeping him from heading towards the doors. When he did finally move Harry thought he saw the boy sway a little as he walked.

As soon as Seamus was out of sight the hall erupted in all sorts of tones, some people bothering to whisper, but most of them sharing their shock at the lunchtime interruption loudly and obnoxiously. Ron was amongst them.

'Bloody hell,' he said loudly so Hermione and Harry could hear him over the din. 'Now _that's_ something to talk about!'

'What did Seamus mean going on about all that fighting for rights stuff?' Harry asked.

'Seamus' mum is a magical civil rights activist. Right now she's heavily involved in the fight against Voldemort's politics,' Hermione said.

'Voldemort has politics?' Harry asked.

'What … it's not just killing people?' Ron added.

'Of course it's not just about killing people,' Draco said, rolling his eyes at Ron. 'How do you think he got so many followers? Do you think he'd have convinced many people to side with him by saying that his main aim was just to kill anything that moves?'

'Oh, you'd know all about it then, wouldn't you Draco?' Ron said scathingly. Draco started and broke eye contact with the group, looking back down to his sandwich instead.

'Well he is right, Ron,' Hermione said. 'Voldemort started getting popular support by leading legitimate – albeit disgustingly amoral – political movements against things like muggle-magic marriage, muggle acceptance by the magical community. That's how he judged who he could trust to show his darker plans to. And so far as anyone can tell Voldemort is trying to take over the world and make a new world order, based on those original politics. Dumbledore and everyone else might be fighting against Death Eaters themselves, but people like Mrs Finnegan fight against what they stand for and against ignorance in the magical community.'

'I never knew any of that.' Harry said. 'I guess I never thought Voldemort had motives … just that he was off his nut.'

In the last few minutes of lunch break Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to check to see if Seamus was all right. They had heard several more small explosions of mumbled argument coming in from the main entrance while they were still eating, but it had been quite outside for some time now, so the group guessed Mrs Finnegan had left.

'Where do you think he would be?' Ron asked.

'Aren't we forgetting something?' Hermione asked as they made their way up the Gryffindor table. She turned around and ran back to where they had been sitting, grabbed Draco by the back of the shirt and pulled him off his seat. 'You come with us, Draco. All the time!' Draco and Hermione rejoined the others and they all made their way to the Gryffindor common room, in hopes of finding Seamus there.

They were in luck, and when they got to the boy's dormitory they found Seamus sitting on the foot of his bed, white, and staring at the floor.

'Seamus,' Hermione asked in a soothing voice, 'what's wrong?'

'I yelled at me maam,' Seamus said, transfixed by the piece of carpet he was staring at.'

'It was a hell of a show though, Seamus,' Ron said. 'You sure took the attention off us!'

'Yeah,' Seamus said, 'but I yelled at me maam.'

- - - - - - -

The rest of the day went off without too much of a hitch, though Seamus had taken to hanging around with the rest of them now, which meant that passing students now had Draco, Harry _and_ Seamus to stare at. After dinner the group retired to the Gryffindor common room, and Harry pulled Hermione aside.

'Something's been bugging me about what happened this after noon,' Harry said. Hermione kept looking over to where Seamus and Ron had been left with Malfoy duty. 'Oh leave it Hermione! They're not gunna kill him in the five minutes it takes for us to have this conversation.'

'I wouldn't be too sure,' Hermione said. She pulled herself back from watching the oddly matched trio near the fireplace and focused on Harry. 'What was it you didn't understand?'

'It wasn't that I didn't understand something … I just didn't quite get it. Why is Seamus so adamant about staying at Hogwarts just to learn how to fight against people like Death Eaters? Most magical people will never meet a Death Eater – or at least not if we win this war – so why would Seamus be so adamant? Has he lost someone to the Death Eaters?'

'Well almost everyone has, I expect. But no one particularly close to him springs to mind. I just figured it was about standing up for wizarding rights.'

'Yeah, but I don't see Ron going crazy so he can have the right to marry someone with muggle parents. Why does Seamus take muggle-magical relationships so personally? Dean's not a muggle.'

'Well, Ron would care more if he got what was going on … or at least he had better care more if he got it. I expect Seamus takes it so personally because of the bigger picture of it all.' Harry gave Hermione a blank look. 'Oh honestly Harry, connect the dots. If Voldemort doesn't want a wizard to have the free will to decide to marry a muggle, what do you think his position on two wizards shacking up together would be?' The penny dropped, and Harry nodded. 'I mean … if Voldemort has this image of some perfect, macho, everyone is the same and everyone bows down to him world, it's not likely people in Dean's and Seamus' position would have a very comfortable part to play in that world.'

'No, I guess not.' Harry remembered the funny feeling he had had in his belly that morning, seeing Draco in just his pyjama bottoms, and he felt that Seamus' anger was justified.

'Was that all, Harry?' Hermione asked, casting another look to where Draco sat staring into the fire besides which Ron and Seamus were now playing a very active game of wizard chess.

'Yeah. Well …' Harry's eyes had also rested on Draco this time. 'Yeah, that's it.'

- - - - - - -

Draco had not had a good first day back at Hogwarts. When he didn't have Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs giving him weird, questioning looks or talking behind their hands he had to deal with the terrible looks being shot at him by many of the Slytherins. Moreover, Seamus had neglected to mention at lunch that it wasn't only the Slytherins giving him looks of poison, but also many of the Gryffindors. It would take a long time for any of them to trust him.

One thing was sure though: Gryffindor common room was a heck of a lot warmer than the Slytherin one would ever be. A warm breeze danced across his cheek and the fire in the hearth warmed him in the large backed chair he sat in. Seamus and Ron were distracted by the game of wizard chess they were playing next to him, so he had time to contemplate Harry.

'What do you think our new defence against the dark arts teacher will be like?' one of the boys asked.

'Terrible, I expect,' the other said.

'What makes you say that?'

Draco watched as Harry talked over in the corner, the way his lips moved, the way he brushed his wild hair out of his eyes every now and then, the naïve look he gave Hermione as he seemed to have something fairly simple explained to him.

'You know I have a question,' one of the boys to Draco's right said, at the same time Hermione looked in his direction and Draco had to avert his gaze quickly.

'Yeah, what's that?' Ron asked.

'I understand now why Draco is in our house … but that doesn't explain why you three are hanging around him so much.'

'Oh, well …' Ron stammered out.

'Change of heart, Seamus,' Draco answered. He risked a glance back in Harry's direction.

* * *

Author's note:

YES i noe ... it's been months! but that's how long uni holidays are ... and without any need for procrastination i'm afraid attention to the finer arts dies (but i'm back at uni now ... so expect lots of procrastination and lots of chapters :P )

Also ... i noe this chapter dealt a LOT with Seamus, but i always liked him, and so i'm writing a bit more of his story because I want to bring him more into the lives of the other characters. Plus, every writer on this site has their own little eccentricities ... let Seamus be mine ;)

Cheers! and I hope lots of ppl review, old readers AND new :D

Thayle N


	9. Bed Hangings and Broomsticks

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling ownes all the characters and past events mentioned in this fan fic. That is all. (Well that was boring, wasn't it?)

**Chapter Nine**

Bed Hangings and Broomsticks  


Harry woke early again and pulled back his bed hangings. He hadn't been sleeping properly for quite a while now, and on mornings like these he had found it was generally a lost cause to try to get back to sleep. Instead, he had found himself falling into a pattern; Harry would go back to bed for a little while now and enjoy the warmth of his covers and watch as the sun's rays crept up the opposite wall, then he would get up and make the most of his morning by having his shower before everyone else wanted to use the bathroom and then coming back up to the common room to wait for his friends, after which time they would all go down to breakfast together.

Harry crept back around to the top of his bed on tiptoes, his loose fitting boxers hanging around the very bottom of his torso. As he slid himself back into bed he let the softness and smoothness of the sheets play against his skin, and thoughts of sweet kisses and tender touches run through his mind. It wasn't long before a face popped into his head, and the close proximity of the owner of that face made him smile. He had stopped trying to understand what he had been feeling for Draco, and this morning, safe in the knowledge that no one was aware of him, he let his mind wander to all kinds of inappropriate situations.

Draco stood over him, looking down, brushing his hand trough Harry's hair … he was sitting on the bed, undoing to top button on his pyjama pants, letting the fly fall open to reveal just a little bit more skin than he would let anyone else see … he was creeping under the sheets, seductive, sultry, pressing himself up against Harry … finding a comfort in Harry's arms, warmth in his body …

Harry left the warmth of his bed begrudgingly, but the sun was already up and he couldn't risk taking any more time if he wanted to be first in the showers. He grabbed his clothes and a towel and headed downstairs.

To his great surprise he found Seamus sitting in the same big backed chair by the now vanished fire that Draco had been in the night before. He walked over to him, and noticed Seamus was already dressed for the day ahead.

'What are you doing up so early?' Harry asked.

'I haven't been sleeping too well lately. Lots to think about I guess.'

'I know what you mean. I've been awake for ages … you must have gotten up while it was still pitch black.'

'No,' Seamus said, 'I've only been up about half an hour.'

'Oh …' Harry said, desperately trying to judge what he was doing half an hour ago.

'You know,' Seamus started, smiling evilly 'you should really think more about the privacy offered by bed hangings …'

'Oh shut up,' Harry said, blushing wildly and heading for the showers. Seamus laughed raucously from behind him.

Fortunately for Harry nothing as embarrassing happened again that morning, and even some of the whispering in the halls died down, though there was still more students paying too much attention to him than Harry would have liked.

Classes had become a real challenge to Harry, with the spells and potions they were learning in their seventh year being the most difficult he had ever attempted. With the exception of Hermione, no one in Harry's class had been able to turn their desks into broomsticks, and three in four of Harry's potions were ending up a thick, rubbery goo – though he suspected this was still a better result than had Snape still been teaching the class.

Still, Harry's greatest challenge was the blonde haired boy now dogging his every move. It wasn't so much that Draco was being defiant, or deliberately trying to upset Harry's day, it was that his closeness provided such a distraction that Harry often found he couldn't concentrate on whatever it was he was meant to be being taught.

'Are you planning on even attempting to transfigure your table, Mr Potter, or are you just going to stare out into thin air for the rest of my lesson?' Professor McGonagall demanded that day. What really troubled Harry though was that he had not been staring off into thin air, he had been staring at Draco, and he expected Professor McGonagall knew it too.

'What was all that about?' Hermione asked on their way to their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

'Nothing,' Harry said. 'I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately, that's all. What do you think our DADA class will be like?' Harry asked, trying to change the topic.

'I have no idea. Our timetables still don't say who the teacher is!' Hermione said, pulling out her timetable and double-checking the empty space where the name of the teacher should have magically appeared when the position was filled. 'I can't believe we don't even have a reading set yet!' Hermione said, astonished, and Harry decided he had changed the conversation to the right topic.

As they approached the classroom Harry noticed a number of Slytherins standing in a huddle and watching as they walked past. As he and Hermione passed he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye one of them passing a note to Draco, who was following behind with Ron. When they turned the last corner into the hallway where their DADA classes were to be held Harry stopped abruptly so that Draco would crash into him.

Draco fell to the floor and the note that had been forced into his hand dropped nearer to Harry than Draco could reach. Harry bent to pick it up, cursing Draco for being so convincingly innocent.

'What's that?' Ron asked.

'A note I saw a group of Slytherins pass Draco a second ago,' Harry answered, hurt creeping into his voice.

'You little turd,' Ron said, rounding on Draco, who was still on his bum on the stone floor. 'You've been passing notes to Slytherins, haven't you? Spying on us and …'

'Ron,' Hermione interrupted.

'No. You can't defend him this time, Hermione. We caught him red handed!'

'Ron,' Hermione said again. She held out the note, which Harry had unfolded and read as Ron had begun his rant. It read:

**R.I.P**

**Malfoy!**

'Oh,' Ron said. 'Still …'

Harry walked closer to Draco, who was looking the most dejected Harry had ever seen him. Draco looked utterly down, and Harry took a peculiar kind of pleasure in the fact that now he had proof that Draco really was capable of emotions other than anger. He held out a hand to the boy and after a moment's pause Draco took it.

Harry was surprised by how warm Draco's hand was, and a tingle rose from where they touched. When Draco was to his feet again it wasn't for a second that they released each other's hands, and for that briefest of moments holding hands with Draco Malfoy, Harry felt a tender comfort.

'Where's this DADA classroom?' Ron asked no one in particular, not aware of the moment Harry had just shared with Draco. Hermione, on the other hand, kept shooting Harry and Draco her 'thinking' looks as they moved further down the hallway, trying to find the room.

Eventually they found the room, but it was more difficult then they had expected because they had been looking for a room with a teacher in it, and there were none along this corridor. After ten minutes of waiting for a teacher the students who had slowly assembled three took it upon themselves to enter the classroom and take their seats.

Fewer people took DADA in their seventh year because of the greater difficulty of the subject and the greater danger involved. Seamus was one of the only other Gryffindors in the class. All together the group made roughly fifteen students.

'There's not many here,' Ron commented. He counted around the room. 'Only fifteen.'

'Oh no,' Hermione said. 'That means there will be odd numbers when we pair up to practise spells.'

No sooner had Hermione closed her mouth than the class jumped at a crashing noise in the doorway. Neville had tripped over something in his hurry through the door, and had sent his parchment and ink flying.

Hermione and Ron rushed over to him, Ron helping Neville off the ground and Hermione collecting the ink into the newly fixed glass jar with a single wave of her wand.

'What on earth are you doing here Neville?' Ron asked.

'I'm here for DADA. I thought I was late,' he said after he had had a quick look around the classroom for a teacher.

'But Neville,' Hermione said hesitantly. 'You know, DADA in the seventh year is a lot more difficult than in the sixth … sometimes it's quite dangerous even.'

'Yeah, but even herbology is dangerous in seventh year,' Neville said.

'But …' Ron began.

'I just figure,' Neville cut across him, 'that if I can survive going out with you three and fighting Death Eaters than DADA shouldn't be too difficult. I hope,' he added.

'Well right now it doesn't even look like there will be a DADA class,' Seamus said. 'Not if we can't find a teacher, at any rate.'

'How long do you think we have to wait around here in case someone shows up?' Ron asked.

'At least ten minutes,' Hermione said immediately. And so they did wait for ten minutes. And then ten minutes after that. Five minutes after that, however, even Hermione had lost hope of anyone coming to rescue the lesson, and so the teacherless students went their separate ways.

When the class began to break up Hermione grabbed hold of Ron, Harry and Seamus and signalled for them to stay behind. 'Do you think you could take care of Malfoy for a minute?' she asked Seamus. 'Just take him outside and make sure he doesn't pull any scary faces at first years.'

'Why not,' Seamus said. 'It's not like I would have been included otherwise,' he moped.

'What do you want to talk about?' Harry asked as Draco closed the door to the hallway behind him.

'We might have a slight problem.'

'Oh? And what's that then?' Ron asked.

'Well, tomorrow is our first Magical Research and Trawling lesson, and we are all meant to be there.'

'Why do I feel a "but" coming on?' Ron asked Harry.

'But Draco's not.' Hermione said, shooting a scowl at Ron as she did.

'So we dump him in the common room for a couple of hours a couple of times a week.'

'No Ron!' Hermione said. 'You heard what McGonagall said – we can't leave him alone for a minute!'

'So what are we going to do then?' asked Harry.

'Well …'

'Oh no,' Ron said with a frown. 'I always hate when you get that tone... it's a sure sign that something bad is about to happen.'

'Oh shut up Ron,' Hermione hissed. 'I have a solution that could potentially solve both of our problems.'

'Which problems are they?' Harry asked.

'The one with Draco obviously, and this one,' she said, waving to the empty classroom. 'Having no teacher.'

'What's your solution then?'

'For you to start up the DA again Harry!' This suggestion was met with a groan from Harry, but Ron's eyes lit up when the implications of what Hermione said reached his brain. 'It'd work perfectly.'

'I can see how something _like_ that _might_ help with the DADA problem, but how is that supposed to help keep Draco out of our hair for our Magical Research and Trawling time?' Harry asked.

'Well if we simply can't watch over him, who better than an army of students specially trained to watch out for signs of Dark Wizards and Dark Magic?'

'None better than Dumbledore's Army,' Ron chimed in, pleased with himself for his quick answer.

'Exactly!' Hermione said.

'The DA was one thing when it was just defensive spells,' Harry said, 'but I've no idea how to teach seventh year spells. I'd have to learn them myself first.'

'Well you'd have to learn them anyway, mate.'

'But I don't even know which spells I'd have to learn!'

'That's easy,' Hermione put in. 'I have a copy of the syllabus anyway.'

'How'd you get that?' Ron asked, amazed.

'They're in the library. There's a whole shelf devoted to Hogwarts' syllabi,' she explained. 'Honestly, do you two know anything about books or libraries?'

'No,' Ron and Harry answered in unison.

'Anyway,' Harry said, 'I couldn't teach a whole class.'

'You wouldn't be,' Hermione said. 'You'd just be trying to keep us as up to date as you could until McGonagall can get us a teacher, and you'd be helping us out with the Draco situation too. Plus you wouldn't take the whole class – only the people who were interested – probably just the people who were in the DA last time. At least have a think about it.'

Harry headed towards the door. 'Ok … I'll think.'

'Well I thought it was a great idea,' Seamus told Hermione as soon as she walked through the door.'

'Thank-you,' Hermione said. 'I'm glad someone appreciates me around here.' She shot Seamus a grin, a grin that Ron noticed and was not all too happy about.

- - - - - - -

Classes and homework kept Harry busy the rest of the day, and when he went to bed after everyone else he couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight fell across the room and lit up the boy's dormitory. In his sleepy state Harry's defensive walls were down, and so he let thoughts of him and Draco kissing and touching fill his mind once again as he went to sleep.

He woke the next day a little later than he had been lately, and he wasn't sure but he felt more refreshed that usual too. He still had time to get ready for the day ahead before the other boys in the seventh year dormitory, and he waited in the mostly still common room for his friends to come down from the dorms.

The first boy to join him was Draco, and the two shared a moment's awkward silence.

'So …' Draco said.

'Yup …' Harry replied.

'Anything special today?' Draco asked.

Harry thought about the Magical Research time he had coming that afternoon, where he would be let run wild through Dumbledore's research and discoveries, and about the decision he had to make about restarting the DA soon enough to let a member know they had to watch Draco Malfoy as their first task. 'No,' he said, 'nothing interesting.'

'Yeah, me neither.'

The two shared another awkward silence.

'Everyone gets up so late in Gryffindor,' Malfoy said.

'Oh? I'd never noticed. I'm not usually this early, only I've not been getting … anyway …'

'Yeah… well the Slytherin dungeons aren't really a place to have a _cosy_ sleep in. Kind of stoic, actually.' More silence. 'Hey,' Draco said suddenly. 'Do you want to go down to breakfast now? Beat everyone else there?'

Harry thought for a second. At least if they were walking the awkward silences would be less awkward. 'Yeah, sure.'

The two boys headed for the fat lady's portrait and down to the great hall.

'This is weird,' Draco said.

'What is?'

'This,' he answered, waving a hand between Harry and himself. 'I'm not used to the whole _walking amicably_ thing. Time was when I would have just told you to shove off if I felt awkward around you.'

'You used to feel awkward around me?' Harry asked.

'Yeah, didn't you me?'

'Well, I guess. And you feel awkward now too?'

'Yeah … don't you?' Draco asked, and Harry nodded. 'I understand that. Completely. I hope it doesn't last too long though. I've always known it was a big ask for you to forgive me …'

'Hey!' a voice called form behind Harry and Draco.

Harry was listening so intently to what Draco was saying now that he hadn't heard the group of boys walking up behind them. Harry turned around and was met with the same small gaggle of Slytherin boys he had seen the previous day handing the note to Draco. The group was made up of mostly sixth and seventh years by the look of it.

'What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?' The tallest and most-likely-to bruise-you looking one said.

'That's not any of your business,' Draco said hotly.

'Not my business?' the muscly Slytherin said. 'Your defouling the name of Slytherin by hanging around with this dropkick and you think it's none of my business.'

'Firstly, the word you're looking for is _befouling_. Secondly, I'm not _befouling_ anything that wasn't already fowl… and it's still none of your business.' Draco reached for his wand, but the group of boys were too close for magic to be much help to them.

Harry, who had been in quite a few situations similar to this when he was younger knew what the best way out of being bait for a group of stupid, bigger boys was – running and hiding. He grabbed Draco's free hand and shot off in the direction they had been heading.

As they ran Draco tried to shoot a few odd spells over his shoulder, but failed to do anything other than crack an old looking vase that had been standing on a pedestal under a long window in one of the endless hallways.

When Harry and Draco turned the next corner into yet another long hallways they were only a few metres in front of the Slytherins, but luckily Harry had seen Mr Filtch the caretaker using a magically hidden broom closet in this hallway just the other day. Harry, who was still holding Draco by the hand, pulled the boy in his direction and they both ran head on into the stone wall of the hallway… but when Harry opened his eyes he was not flat out on the floor in the hallway holding his head in pain as he had half expected to be, but was in a small broom closet instead.

The closet was only really big enough for a bucket, mop and broom, and the false stone that was placed over the entrance to the cupboard, though solid looking from the outside, was pale from inside so you could still see the hallway as though you were looking at it through grey coloured mesh.

Harry saw the group run past, and then heard them stop a little down the hallway.

'Where'd they go?' one asked, but Harry didn't hear the astonished reply, because he had only just noticed Draco again.

The two boys were still holding hands, only now they were also face-to-face, chest-to-chest in the small, confined broom closet. Both of their breaths were heavy but when Harry's eyes met Draco's and locked he was sure his heart skipped a beat. The two boys were silent, waiting for the Slytherins – who Harry was barely aware of now – to leave the hallway. For what must have been only a few moments but seemed much longer Harry and Draco maintained their silent posts, sharing the same heavy breath and staring into one another's eyes.

Eventually the confinement and the heat got the better of Harry, and he had to break eye contact and step outside into the now empty hallway. He wasn't sure when he had let go of Draco's hand but he left the cupboard with no resistance.

'Well that was certainly a work-out,' Draco said from behind him when he exited the closet. 'How did you know about that…. whatever it was?'

'I think it's just a supplies cupboard. I saw Filtch using it the other day.'

'Lucky.'

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'Why were they chasing you?'

'Oh…' Draco said. 'I don't know. I guess it was just trying to prove something. Blaine was always a thug anyway. I guess it was just the next Slytherin leader using the old one to prove how tough he was. Kind of like what lions do.'

Harry was caught off guard by this comment, and found himself doubting whether he could ever think of any Slytherin as a lion. The comment did bring down one reminder hard onto Harry though … Draco was once at the top of the Slytherin food chain, and had probably done something very similar to what he had just seen Blain try to do to Malfoy to get there. The deep, rushing feeling that had lived in his body for the short stay in the broom closet left him quickly after that.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Thank you sooo much to everyone who reviewed, ESPECIALLY leiselmae for coming back to Defect, fifespice for letting me know your thoughts on several chapters - it was greatly appreciated :D - and randomness and The Muffin of Death for such kind words!

Please review this chapter too ... I love to hear what you think and it makes me feel like i'm not just writing for myself, but people who read my story too :D

Peace,

Thayle Nash


	10. The Black Letter

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is a great author, and owns all the characters in this story. I have borrowed them because they were so magically crafted into my imagination as a youngin that I like to come back to them sometimes and play with them.

P.S. I did not die ... just got very very very busy ... for about two years. Hopefully I'm back now though 

**Chapter Ten**

The Black Letter

Harry picked up another dust covered volume, weighed it in his hand and then, deciding it was too heavy to be bothered with, dropped it back onto the mahogany desk.

'This is hopeless,' Harry said. 'Who would have thought anyone could have so many books?'

'You're joking aren't you?' asked Hermione. 'You're talking about one of the most powerful wizards to ever walk the earth, and you're surprised he had lots of books? How do you think he got so good, Harry?'

'I don't know. But I certainly never thought it had anything to do with books. I mean ... books! Soo many books!'

And it was true; Dumbledore's private library was much larger than even Hermione had anticipated, though she wasn't going to tell Harry that.

When the pair had been let into Dumbledore's office earlier that night neither one of them had known what to expect. Professor McGonagall had led them through Dumbledore's old office and into the first antechamber, where she stopped them and gave stern instructions never to repeat what they were about to learn to another soul. They had agreed, and McGonagall led them through a door to their left. The library was massive for a personal collection, with tall bookshelves lining the walls of a surprisingly large room.

'Oh this is hopeless,' Harry said, plonking his head down on the desk. 'We've been at this for hours, and haven't found anything useful.'

'You don't know that Harry. Just because it doesn't seem useful now doesn't mean we won't find a use for this information later. I'm sure we'll get to a point where everything falls into place.'

'That doesn't make me feel any better.'

'You have to be patient, Harry. This was never going to happen overnight.'

'But we've been at this for hours and we've found nothing.'

'I bet Ron's fuming back in Gryffindor tower,' Hermione said, a hint of a smirk running across her lips. 'We were never supposed to leave him this long babysitting Malfoy. I'm still not sure that was a good idea.'

'Maybe we'll be lucky and by the time we get back Ron will have blasted Malfoy away.' The jibe came naturally to Harry, but after he had said it he realised there was less malice in his voice than usual. He pondered this for a moment before he realised that Hermione was looking at him oddly, almost pensively. 'What?' he asked her.

'Nothing,' she replied, but she didn't look away immediately. Instead she let her gaze hang on Harry for a few moments, pulling the face that Harry and Ron had often referred to as her _trying-to-solve-a-puzzle_ face.

'Stop doing that,' harry said defensively.

'Doing what?'

'Trying to ... oh I don't know ... you just keep looking at me weirdly.'

'No,' said Hermione. 'Just thinking.'

'Thinking about what?' Harry asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

'Nothing really.' Hermione turned back to the bookshelf she had been studying all night and pulled another massive volume from the shelves. 'So, how do you think things are working out with Malfoy?'

'Do we really need to talk about Draco right now?' Harry asked. Hermione looked up from her book and gave him her _trying-to-solve-a-puzzle _look again. 'Oh, what now?'

'Nothing!' Hermione said. Harry gave her a sceptical look and so she went on. 'It's just ... you rarely ever call him Draco ... and I've noticed recently that there's less tension between the two of you ... or at least it's changed somehow ...' She let her observation hang in the air.

'I don't see your point.'

'Never mind, Harry.' The young witch flipped the hard cover of Dumbledore's book open onto the desk and began to read. Afraid that the conversation could turn more awkward than it already was, Harry let her immerse herself in her research and he too turned back to flicking through the yellowing pages of Dumbledore's ancient text.

The time marched slowly on, and as the candles the duo had been reading by slowly flickered out one by one, Harry decided it was time to call it a night. Hermione reluctantly agreed and the pair walked slowly back to the Gryffindor tower in silence. When they reached the common room they found Ron and Draco sitting by the fire, Ron polishing his Wizards' chess pieces and Draco snoozing in one of the big-backed chairs.

'What do you mean you didn't find anything?' Ron asked when Hermione had told him what they had done that night. 'You mean I spent all night looking after this tosser for you to come back empty handed?' Ron nodded in Draco's direction as he spoke and Harry's eyes, which had moved in the direction of Ron's gesture, were now fighting to stop Harry from tearing them away from the image of Draco resting peacefully just an arm's length away. Harry had never seen the boy look so calm or serene. Eventually Harry got control of his eyes and looked back to Ron, but not before he noticed Hermione giving him another one of her looks.

'Well what do you want from us, Ron?' Harry asked. 'We tried! Dumbledore had collected hundreds of books and it'll take an age to get through all of them. But at least we've made a start.'

'I can promise you one thing, mate,' Ron said, 'I'm not wasting my time babysitting this one again. You've got to start the DA up again and let a few of them in on the secret.' Harry went to argue with him but found he didn't have the energy. Spending the night looking through Dumbledore's belongings had been draining both mentally and emotionally.

'Fine,' Harry said, conceding that if Ron's persistent bugging didn't eventually convince him to restart the DA then Hermione's campaign of reasoned arguments and good sense probably would.

'What? Are you serious?' Ron asked with a big grin across his face.

'That's excellent Harry,' Hermione piped in.

'But I don't know how yet!' Harry cautioned. 'And I can't guarantee that anyone will want to rejoin anyway!'

'Well, at the very least it's a start,' Hermione said happily. 'And besides, you can leave all the details up to me.'

'I was planning on doing that anyway.'

'I know,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Ron and Harry both laughed. 'Well I'm going to bed anyway; it's very late to be up on a school night, especially in our first week back.' Now it was Ron and Harry's turn to roll their eyes. It seemed Hermione was never going to lose her love of following the rules. 'Ron, you should go to bed too.'

'What? Why doesn't Harry have to go to bed?'

'Because I'm not the boss of Harry.'

'You're not the boss of me either!'

'Oh honey,' Hermione said, 'you know that's not true.' And with that Hermione kissed Ron gently on the cheek, turned and walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Ron waited a moment, looking a little sheepish over what had just happened in front of Harry, and then said, 'I'd better go, mate.' He started moving towards the staircase too.

'What? Wait!' Harry hissed after him. 'What about Draco?'

'What about the dirt bag?'

'Well we can't just leave him here; we've got to get him up to the dorm.'

'Hey, I've been babysitting him all night. You wake him up and put him to bed if you care that much.'

'A great help you are,' Harry mumbled to Ron's back as he walked away. Harry moved over to where Draco was sleeping.

When he was sleeping like this Draco's features were soft and the heat of the fire gave the normally pale boy a rosy glow to his cheeks. Draco's head was tilted slightly to the side and his chest rose and fell gently as he breathed in and then exhaled, his soft breath dancing its way across the space between he and Harry, tickling Harry's hand. Harry was shocked to see the fragment of a smile flicker across the boy's features, but then it was gone again.

Harry reached out a hand but wasn't really sure how to wake the sleeping boy. There had been a time when the only way imaginable would have been both loud and quite possibly painful, but for some reason neither of those options occurred to Harry tonight. He thought to shake the boy awake, but decided not to: he didn't want Malfoy waking with a start and cursing whatever he first saw. Instead, Harry leant down until he was level with Draco, brushed a piece of blonde hair out of the boy's eyes and whispered, 'Draco.'

'Potter?' he replied, without opening his eyes. Harry could not hear any trace of malice in the way Draco said the word.

'Draco,' Harry whispered again.

This time Draco slowly opened his eyes and blinked hard a few times, obviously trying to regain control of his senses. 'I fell asleep,' the boy said, half to himself and half to Harry.

'Yeah, you did.'

'I guess it was the warmth of the fire. I'm not used to such comfort, and such a warm atmosphere.'

'Do you always analyse everything, Malfoy?' Harry asked.

Draco looked at him for a moment, and then said, 'I should go to bed.' He went to stand but instead yawned loudly. Harry giggled and Draco's cheeks went a darker shade of pink.

'Come on,' Harry said, offering Draco a hand out of the chair. He almost withdrew it as Draco didn't take it straight away, first looking from Harry's hand and then to Harry himself, and then back to his hand. Eventually though Draco clasped Harry's outstretched hand in his and Harry pulled him out of the big-backed chair. 'Come on,' Harry repeated. 'It's late and we should both be going to bed.'

The two boys made their way up the winding staircase and into the boy's dormitory. Each moved silently to their own beds and began to change into their night wear. For some reason that Harry couldn't fathom he found that his brain had to battle against his eyes once more, this time to stop them straying over to where Draco was undressing.

Purposefully, decisively, Harry changed, drew the curtains around his bed and climbed into bed, all without once looking over in Draco's direction.

Harry sighed heavily when he was in the privacy of his own bed, thinking about the state of things as they were. He couldn't avoid the sinking feeling that came with knowing he had wasted one more day in the fight against Voldemort: his and Hermione's search through Dumbledore's office had yielded no results and he was questioning whether it had been a good idea to come back to Hogwarts at all. He was sure that the answers he was looking for could be found at Godric's Hollow. Furthermore, Harry was utterly confused about eh new feelings he was developing for Draco; he no longer hated him or wanted to hurt him every chance he got, and he wasn't sure why. Sure Draco was making an attempt to be a good guy, but didn't all the history they shared mean anything? You couldn't just turn around one day after years of torment and wrongdoing and decide to be a good guy and expect everything to be ok ...

- - - - - - -

Draco awoke early the next morning. He lay in bed enjoying the comfort of his warm sheets, letting a refreshing breeze sweep in through the crack in his bed hangings. He could never have felt this comfortable in the Slytherin dungeons. Everything down there was cold and damp.

When the sun began to rise and light penetrated the bed hangings Draco got up out of bed, grabbed his dressing gown and walked up to the Gryffindor showers. It was still early in the morning and Draco was glad for the privacy. Being around people all day was not what he was used to, and since he had turned himself in at Gringotts he didn't think he had been completely alone even once, with someone following or guarding him at all times.

Draco had his shower and dried off, but realised he had forgotten to bring his school robes up with him. He wrapped the towel around him and carried his dressing gown and pyjama pants in his hand so that he wouldn't get them wet with the moisture still on his body. He had walked about half way down the spiral staircase when he ran into Harry. Literally.

'Shit!' Draco exclaimed as he fell backwards, landing hard on his bum on a step of the staircase.

'Oh, sorry,' Harry said when he had regained his balance. 'I didn't see you coming.'

'Obviously,' Draco said, trying to stand up again without losing his grip on his towel, which was dangerously close to falling off.

Harry laughed. 'You know there's a reason why we normally get dressed upstairs.

'Shut up, Potter,' Draco said, embarrassed to be standing – or sitting – in front of Harry in such a compromising state.

'You might want to cross your legs too,' Harry said. Draco turned a furious shade of red and Harry couldn't help but laugh again. 'Here,' he said, offering his hand to Draco. 'You're making a habit of needing my help to get up.' A hundred different double entendre raced through Draco's mind, and he blushed again.

'What were you running up the steps this early for anyway?' Draco asked when he was back on his feet.

'I thought you'd done a runner. I was going to check the showers first before I raised the alarm though. Lucky I did.'

'You're not my keeper, Potter. I'm allowed to shower aren't I?'

'In case you forgot,' Harry said, shoving Draco hard in the chest, 'you are only here because the Order agreed to keep you under surveillance. You don't get to be indignant.'

'I could have escaped a hundred times if that's what I wanted, Potter,' Draco spat. 'So why don't you just shove off. I'm sticking around because I want to, and nothing you said or did could keep me here if I didn't.'

Harry and Draco were face to face now, staring daggers at each other in the confined space of the spiral staircase. Draco had been caught so off guard by the sudden change in tone that he had simply fallen back on his old habit of responding to criticism with arrogance, but now he fell silent, not knowing what to say next. The silence grew thicker and Draco found himself resisting the urge to reach out and grab Harry, who always looked so handsome when he was riled up. Thoughts of passionately kissing Harry right there on the steps ran through his head and Draco realised that he would need to escape the situation soon.

Without warning Harry's angry demeanour broke and was replaced by obvious amusement. 'Is that a wand in your towel or are you – ' Draco pushed past Harry before he could even finish his sentence and ran back down to the boy's dormitory, where he quickly got changed before any of the other boys woke up. The day that had started so beautifully in bed had already gone horribly wrong, and Draco sensed that the rest of the day would be no better.

When next Draco saw Harry it was down in the common room. Bearing in mind what harry had said on the steps, Draco had decided to wait for the golden trio before going down to breakfast. As the common room filled around him Draco tried to ignore the feelings of deep embarrassment bubbling under the surface. Hermione was the first to come down the staircase and into the common room.

'Good morning Draco,' Hermione said.

'Morning,' Draco mumbled.

'Morning. Sleep well?' Seamus asked Hermione as he walked over.

'Yeah I did thanks. How about you?'

'Better. What do you think breakfast will be this morning?'

'Oh I hope it's eggs and bacon.'

'There's always eggs and bacon.'

'Oh lord,' Draco cut across. 'This is possibly the most banal conversations I've ever been subjected to.'

'Well no one's asking you to listen, Malfoy,' Seamus said.

There was a short pause filled by an awkward silence. 'We do usually have more interesting conversations,' Hermione said coyly. The awkward silence returned.

Harry and Ron arrived shortly after, which was good because they were a distraction to break the silence, but bad because Draco was sure Harry would mention something about what had happened that morning. But even on the way down to the dining hall Harry didn't say anything about Draco's towel mishap. Instead, he just kept looking at Draco with a mixture of amusement and something else Draco couldn't quite put his finger on.

The group of five sat to eat breakfast (there were eggs and bacon, along with an assortment of other breakfast foods) and Draco sat through another bout of hackneyed chatter. All the way through breakfast Draco kept sneaking peeks at Harry, who he had discovered a secret affection for since he had accepted Draco's attempt to be a better person. Draco noticed Harry looking in his direction on more than one occasion through breakfast also.

Breakfast was coming to a close when Draco began to wonder why Harry kept stealing looks in his direction; was he looking because he really was worried that Draco would try to do a runner? The arrival of the post owls soon distracted Draco from his thoughts though.

The morning post was a daily ritual at Hogwarts, and few students ever paid much attention to the assortment of owls that flew in through the dining hall window and dropped off letters and parcels from home. Today was different though. Mixed in between the birds of grey and white and brown were three spots of black that swept menacingly over the house tables. Even when the usual owls had departed the crows continued to sweep round and round the hall until the students and teachers had all grown silent. The three crows swooped down amongst the tables and each delivered an identical black envelope to three different students.

One of these students was Seamus. He stared at the black envelope that lay in front of him, on the table where just minutes ago his plate had sat. An ominous silence lay thick and heavy in the Great Hall, yet still Seamus did not reach for his envelope, seemingly in a daze, presumably searching his mind for the hope that what lay inside might somehow be good news.

A shrill sob broke across the silence and woke Seamus from his daze. One of the other students – a girl in hufflepuff house – had opened her letter. Her sobs continued as Seamus reached a trembling hand in front of him to collect his black envelope. He opened it, read the first few lines and shakily rose to his feet.

He had only just achieved full height when all of the colour ran out of his face and he collapsed in a heap on the floor of the Great Hall. He had fainted, still holding the letter. The sound his body made as it hit the floor broke the hall out of its reverie and Harry quickly turned on the bench to reach down and check to make sure Seamus was ok. A crowd quickly gathered around Seamus' limp form and Harry saw a hand reach down and take the letter as Harry himself knelt down to turn Seamus on his side. When he was sure Seamus had just fainted he turned to see who had taken the letter.

The look on Hermione's face was one of pure horror.

'Seamus' parents,' she whispered. 'They've been murdered.'


End file.
